“I am very glad to meet you,” Marla said in clipped upper class Eastern tones that Melissa recognized immediately, and she sounded as though she meant it. But she was an actress so it was hard to tell. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you from Michaela. You’re even younger than I thought you’d be. You must have been a baby yourself when you had her.” She got right to the point as they stood in the front hall and didn’t move. Melissa felt frumpy next to her. Everything Marla was wearing was fashionable, flattering, expensive, and chic.
“I was sixteen,” Melissa answered, feeling awkward.
“I’m twenty-four years older than you are,” Marla said and winced. “I was forty when she was born. My husband was sixty-two. We were old enough to be your parents,” she said, as Melissa digested the information. “I’ve been so nervous about meeting you,” she said, and Melissa was stunned to hear it.
“How can you be nervous to meet me? I’m just a woman who lives on a farm in New England. You’re one of the most famous women in the world, and the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Hardly. But thank you. I’ve read your books. I bought them when Michaela told me about you. They’re brilliant. Do you have any new ones in the pipeline?”
“I retired,” Melissa said quietly, touched by the praise.
“That’s ridiculous. Not at your age. I’m seventy-three and I have no intention of retiring until they drag me off the set in a body bag. Retiring kills people. Haven’t you heard?” They walked slowly into the living room then and sat down.
“I ran out of ideas,” Melissa said, feeling lame when she said it. The older woman sitting next to her on the couch was strong and vital and full of energy, and Melissa felt like a loser saying she’d retired.
“I doubt that. Just a hiatus. We all have them. The woman who wrote those books is full of ideas. I’m sure you have another ten or twenty books in you,” she said with another smile with her perfect teeth. She looked like a toothpaste ad, or the cover of Vogue. She looked like a famous movie star from head to toe, and her hands were perfectly manicured. Melissa hadn’t worn nail polish in seven years.
“To be honest, my son got sick and died, so I stopped writing.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding sympathetic for a brief instant. “My husband died, and I was on set the day after the funeral to start a movie. You can’t afford to let your guard down for a minute. None of us can. There’s always someone waiting to take our place.” It was how she lived, going at full speed in a highly competitive field. She was a force to be reckoned with, and Melissa could see what Michaela meant now. Marla Moore was not a warm, fuzzy person, she was a human cyclone and a strong woman, and she expected those around her to be strong too.
“You’re probably right. I’ve been working on my home in the Berkshires for the last four years. I’ve done most of the work myself.” She sounded proud as she said it.
“That’s wonderful and it must be beautiful. But you can do that when you’re eighty. The world needs more of your books.” She was emphatic about it, and Melissa smiled as their daughter walked into the room, and smiled at both of them.
“Hi, Marla. So have you told Melissa how to run her life yet?” Michaela teased her. She knew her adoptive mother well, and obviously loved her, from the warm look they exchanged.
“Of course. That’s what I was doing when you walked in. She needs to write more books.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to,” Michaela suggested gently.
“She doesn’t have a choice. She has a talent, she has to use it. That’s the obligation that comes with talent. You can’t put it in a drawer and forget about it.” Which Melissa had for the last seven years, since Robbie got sick.
“Not everyone wants to work as hard as you do,” Michaela reminded her.
“That’s for sure. Well, how does it feel to live in Gomorrah?” she asked her daughter. “Most of my friends are on those lists. The women accusing them are right, of course, and some of them should have been caught and punished years ago. But they got away with it, and now all hell is breaking loose, and they’re getting fired left and right. We haven’t seen the end of it yet.” She turned to Melissa then. “I’m sure you came across it in publishing too. We all do. A lot of women have been badly used. In many cases in Hollywood, if they wanted the good parts, they gave in. It’s a rotten business. Always has been. I came across it a few times, but I’ve been lucky. Most of the producers I worked with are decent men. But many are as rotten as they say. I’m very glad Michaela never went into the business. There’s no question, some of those men ruined a lot of lives, and we all knew about them. Now their victims are coming back with a vengeance to ruin theirs. I have no sympathy for them.” She was strong and sure and clear. Melissa realized that she liked her. Marla was still a little bit scary, she was forceful and opinionated, but Melissa had a feeling that she was a good person. She was very much the way her adopted daughter had described her. She looked at Melissa then. “I wasn’t around as much as I should have been, but I want you to know that I love her very much, and I would have laid down my life for her. If I had to do it again, I would have done a few less movies and been home with her more. I missed some important moments, but I’m here for her, and I love her. And I think she knows that too.”
“Yes, she does,” Melissa said quietly, “and she loves you very much too. I couldn’t have done as good a job as you did, at the age I was, or maybe even later. You had so much to offer her, your life experience and your husband’s, and I had so much to learn.”
“We all do,” she said generously. “I was worried about meeting you. Michaela has been so excited about finding you, or your sister finding her. And you’re so much younger than I am, and probably a lot more fun. I’m old enough to be your mother. But maybe together, we can be there for her now. We complement each other, so she has two mothers now.” It was the most generous thing she could have said and Melissa was grateful to her and relaxed as soon as she said it. They all did. Marla turned to Michaela then.
“What’s your husband doing with that damn turkey? Chasing it around the backyard? We’re all starving.” Andrew walked into the room then and she looked with dismay at his feet. “Andrew, sneakers are for tennis or the beach. Please put proper shoes on. Superman can wait.” He scampered out of the room without arguing to get his loafers, and Michaela thanked her, and then Marla turned to Melissa. “He can wear those when he’s with you. I’m old-fashioned, I like boys in proper shoes.” Her son-in-law walked in then, wearing Nikes with his suit, and she pretended to swoon. “What is wrong with you people? An entire generation who don’t own shoes.” They all laughed then, and David announced that the turkey was ready, and they followed him to the dining room, where the turkey was sitting on a platter on the table and looked splendid. He had already carved it, which was the reason for the delay.
It was a lively meal with Marla in their midst. She kept everyone in order, complimented both chefs on the delicious food, and told them countless funny stories about the antics on the set of the movie she was working on.
“If they’re not all in jail for sexual assault by then, we should wrap in two or three weeks,” she said, “and then we go into post-production. I’m starting a new picture in January. We’ll be shooting here and in England and Scotland, so I’ll be out of your hair for a month or two at the beginning of the year.” She had more energy than anyone Melissa had ever met.
Marla left shortly after dessert and said she had script changes and new lines to study. Before she left, she stopped and looked at Melissa. “I was worried about it, but I’m not anymore now that I’ve met you. You’re a good woman, and I’m happy to share her with you. But get back to work on those books. No excuses. It won’t bring your son back if you stop writing. The world needs what you have to say.”
“Thank you,” Melissa said, feeling awkward, they hugged each other,
and a few minutes later, Marla left.
“Wow, she’s amazing,” Melissa said, after the door closed behind her. “She has so much energy.”
David and Michaela burst out laughing. “She certainly does. She never stops. She works like a Trojan, and she probably always will. She still gets a lot of work. A lot of actresses don’t at her age. But she always finds a part she loves, and she’s not afraid of the hard ones.”
“It must have been interesting growing up with her,” Melissa said.
“It was,” Michaela confirmed. “She was always fair, but she expected a lot. Good grades, good behavior, good shoes. She can’t stand laziness in any form. She sets the bar high, for herself and everyone else. And she has a good heart too. I’m glad you like her. I would have been sad if you two didn’t get along.” She was a force to be reckoned with, but Melissa had great respect for her.
“I’m in awe of her. I want to be her when I grow up,” she said, and David and Michaela laughed. Marla was unique. And Melissa was touched by her saying that she was willing to share Michaela with her. She was generous to a fault. “I was so nervous about meeting her.”
“She was nervous about you too,” Michaela said. “She told me in the kitchen between courses that she thinks you’re terrific. And she doesn’t say that easily about anyone.” Melissa had been interested too in her comments about the sex offenders. Marla knew all the inside scoop and the men involved.
She stayed to watch a movie with them, after they put the dishes in the kitchen. David had the football game on mute on another TV at the same time, so he could keep track of the scores.
And they did fun things in L.A. over the weekend. They didn’t see Marla again. She was busy, but she sent Melissa an email, telling her how much she’d enjoyed meeting her, and reminding her to get back to work on the books.
All in all, it was a perfect Thanksgiving. She told Norm all about it when she got back to the hotel and called him. He’d had a nice day at his brother’s too. Melissa was sad to leave, but they were coming to visit her two days after Christmas and planning to stay a week.
Norm took a cab to the airport in Boston, and drove home with her. They didn’t stop talking all the way home, and when they got to her house, they raced upstairs and flew onto her bed.
“I’ve been pining for you for four days,” he said fervently, as he pulled off her clothes and she laughed and tugged at his. Minutes later, they were making love. He was wonderful to come home to, and she had had a lovely time with her daughter. She couldn’t think of a better Thanksgiving. Her solitude in the Berkshires was over. She was alive again, and had so much to look forward to. She had never been as thankful in her life.
Chapter 12
Hattie called Melissa the day after the Thanksgiving weekend, when she got home from work.
“How was it?” Hattie asked her.
“Fantastic. It was perfect. Marla Moore is amazing. She has more energy than anyone half her age. She’s glamorous and beautiful. I think she was as nervous as I was before we met. She was afraid I would take Michaela away from her. No one could. Marla’s a good mother in her own way. She has her own life and a busy career, but she loves her, and Michaela knows it. She said she’s happy to share her with me. I couldn’t hope for more.”
Hattie sounded distracted when she spoke. “Can I come up this weekend? I want to talk to you.” She sounded very serious, and Melissa was worried about her. She had been so down lately, since the summer and her trip to Ireland. She wasn’t sure whether seeing Saint Blaise’s had done it or talking to Fiona Eckles, but whatever it was, Hattie hadn’t recovered yet, and seemed to be getting even more depressed.
“Sure,” she responded. “Do you want to stay Saturday night?”
“I can’t. I have to help with Mass on Sunday. I’ll just come for the day.”
“That’s such a long trip for you. I hope it doesn’t snow.”
“Me too.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. See you Saturday.” She hung up before Melissa could question her further. Melissa had a busy week herself after that. Norm stayed with her every night, but he stayed away on Saturday, so she could spend the day with her sister. Hattie arrived at eleven, which meant she must have left the city around six, since there was a light snow on the road. She looked somber when Melissa opened the door for her, and followed her into the kitchen.
“They didn’t have cinnamon buns. I got you chocolate croissants.” Hattie smiled at her, but Melissa could see that something was wrong. “What’s up? You look like you flunked math.” They both smiled. It brought back memories of their youth.
Hattie sighed and sat back in a kitchen chair and looked at her sister. “I flunked vocation. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for years. I should have told you a long time ago.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a wonderful nun.”
“No, I’m not. I never had a vocation. You were right. I ran away. I wanted to run as far away as I could. The convent seemed like the perfect place to do it. I didn’t have some kind of religious vision or inspiration. I was just scared. So I ran away and hid, just like you said. I was a coward. I still am.
“Do you remember the producer who asked me to go to Hollywood for the screen test? He was offering me a part in a big movie. A good part. I was so excited. I never asked any questions. I flew out there on the ticket he sent me and showed up for the test. Sam Steinberg. He flew out to L.A. to be at the test himself. He told me to meet him in his office. So I did, like the idiot I was then.”
“You weren’t an idiot,” Melissa corrected her. She was listening closely, frowning. “You were a kid.”
“A very dumb kid. I walked into his office on a Saturday morning. There was no one else there. He said he was going to give me the test himself, because I was so talented. I could see a huge film career starting, and an Oscar in my future. He locked the door with a button under his desk. He took his clothes off then, and tore off mine. He ripped them right off my back, slapped me around, threw me on the couch in his office, and raped me. After that, he laid me on his desk, and punched me every time I tried to move, and raped me again. He hit me, kicked me, punched me, masturbated on me, and raped me all day. He kept me there till six o’clock. I could hardly walk by the time he let me go. There was no one in the building except us. He threw me a shirt and some shorts while I crawled across the floor. I couldn’t even stand up, while he put on his shirt and tie, and his suit. He stood in the doorway and said, ‘Sorry, kid, you flunked the test. You’re too young for the part. Better luck next time.’
“He laughed then and walked out. I don’t even know how I got out of there. I was too ashamed to go to a hospital. He broke some ribs. I was black and blue all over, and I could hardly sit down for a week. Thank God, I didn’t get pregnant. His name was on the list of sex offenders last week. Seventeen women have accused him of rape and assault and battery, and described everything he did to me. He’s been doing it to young hopeful actresses for years. The Sam Steinberg Screen Test. It’s common knowledge in Hollywood apparently.”
Melissa felt sick as she listened, afraid that there was more. “I checked in to a cheap motel and stayed there until I could walk normally again and cover the bruises with makeup. When I got home, I did the only thing I could think of. I went straight to the convent, and told them I felt I had a vocation. I didn’t have a vocation, but I never wanted to see another man again, or have one touch me. I met a girl on the plane, going back to New York, who was crying, and said she had been raped twice in L.A., and once in New York when she was trying out for an Off-Broadway show. That did it. I knew I didn’t want to be an actress anymore. He beat it out of me. All I wanted to be was protected and safe from guys like him. If that’s what acting was about, I didn’t want it.” Hattie was crying by then, and so was Melissa.
�
�Why didn’t you tell me? You could have called me from L.A. We could have gone to the police. We still can.” Melissa wanted to kill him after what she’d heard.
“He said that if I did, he’d find me and beat me to a pulp or kill me, and no one would believe me anyway. And he was right. No one would have then. He was a big producer and I was no one. I never wanted that to happen again. I probably was no good as an actress anyway. I couldn’t have lived through that happening again.”
“I remember when you went,” Melissa said, feeling sick. “I was happy for you. It was a big deal. And I remember when you came back and went straight into the convent. I thought you were crazy. It didn’t make any sense. Now it does, eighteen years later. I should have figured it out.”
“How could you? I lied to get into the convent. And I lied to you. The only reason I wanted to get into the convent was because that bastard raped me and I was scared it would happen again. I’ve been in for eighteen years under false pretenses. The only reason I joined the order was because I’d been raped, and was too scared to be out in the world, except as a nun.”
“Oh, Hattie,” Melissa said, and put her arms around her. “Let’s go to the police now. It’s not too late. He needs to be held accountable and brought to justice.”
“Someone else is doing that. I don’t have to. I won’t do it. I would be disgraced forever.”
“If you tell Mother Elizabeth, I think she’d want you to.”
“If I tell her, she’ll know I’m a liar and I’ve been a fraud for all these years. But when I saw his name in the papers last week, I knew I had to tell you at least. You have a right to know how dishonest I am, and why I joined the order.”
Finding Ashley Page 16
