Star (1989)

by Steel, Danielle

  She looked at him honestly, putting her career on the line, but she couldn't lie to him. He had already done too much for her, for her to want to be dishonest with him. I don't love you.

  He didn't tell her that meant nothing to him. It wasn't her love that he wanted. It was the rest of her, her body to warm his nights, her face to sell to the movies. He made a healthy profit from what she did, for himself and the far more important people who backed him. He was the front man for an interesting group, but for all anyone knew, he was the man who counted. And she would be good for him. He had known that from the very first moment he saw her.

  Maybe love will come in time. We're friends, aren't we?

  She nodded, still looking out at the sunset. He had been good to her, better than anyone, but what he wanted was more than she wanted to give him. But everything he did for her was on such a grand scale, the clothes, the cars, the movies, the diamond bracelet. Can I think about it for a while? There were others who would have shuddered at the thought of putting off Ernie Salvatore, but he looked patient and kind as they walked back to the house. He poured her a glass of wine, and she sipped it as they listened to music. It was peaceful being with him. He never pressured her, he was just there, and in some ways he understood what she wanted. She wanted to be a movie star. It was still a childish dream, and yet she knew he could make it happen. But she didn't want to sacrifice her integrity for that, to live with a man she didn't love. But what else did she have? In truth, she had nothing. Only a dream. And the memory of a man who had left three years before, and was never coming back, no matter how much she still loved him.

  Do you want to go home now? He was always ready to do what she wanted, and as she smiled at him, he leaned over and kissed her. It was the first time he had done that since the night they'd made love two weeks before. For two weeks now, he had put an ever proper distance between them and demanded nothing of her. And he demanded nothing now. But he offered her his heart and his home, and to Crystal that seemed enormous. He kissed her again, tenderly, and his hands touched her gently. She started to pull back, but he pulled her closer to him, and there was surprising strength in his hands as he did it. Don't go, he whispered, please ' She almost felt sorry for him. He gave so much, and he asked so little of her. She let him kiss her, and within moments, her body responded to his, and this time it was Crystal who peeled his clothes off, and they made love on the huge white leather couch with the mirrors overhead and the vast sunset behind them.

  There was no remorse this time, no surprise. She knew what she'd done, and why. She felt she owed it to him, for all that he had done. She knew she didn't love him, but there was nothing else, and no one. This was her life now. Hollywood, with its flash and its glamor, and he was an integral part of it. She couldn't fight it anymore. She already owed him too much, and he had too much to offer. Life had always been too hard for her, and she was tired of it. With Ernie, the hardships were over.

  They stayed at Malibu that night. She had no one to answer to except herself, no reason to go back to the hotel. No one would care what she did or even know. Not Harry. Not Pearl. Not even poor old Mrs. Castagna. And when she went back to the hotel three days later to pick up her mail she found the letter from Spencer that Pearl had mailed her. After all this time he had finally written to her, trying to explain his long silence. He told her how much he hated the war, and how he had given up hope for a while but that he still loved her. But it was too late now. She had already agreed to move in with Ernie. And Spencer's letter told her nothing she didn't already know. He was still in Korea, and he didn't know when he was coming home, and he was still married. She had been right to go to Hollywood. Maybe nothing would ever change with Spencer. But loving him was a luxury she could no longer afford. She had sold her soul to Ernesto Salvatore. And she never answered Spencer's letter.

  Ernie helped her move her things into his home in Beverly Hills, and overnight her life changed. There was a cook, and two maids, and she had a pink satin dressing room that looked like a movie set for Joan Crawford. And when she went to hang up her clothes, she found that the closets were already full of clothes he had bought for her, and spread out luxuriously on a chair was a new white mink coat. She slipped it on over her jeans and giggled like a little girl as she twirled and looked at herself in the mirror. She called Pearl and told her about it too, and that she had moved in with Ernie. Pearl didn't sound surprised or shocked. If anything, she sounded a little jealous.

  They went everywhere together, to all the best restaurants, all the biggest parties, to premieres and openings, and the Academy Awards just before she started her new picture.

  That'll be you one day, he whispered to her as Shirley Booth rushed up to the stage to pick up her Oscar for best actress for Come Back, Little Sheba. Gary Cooper won the award for best actor for High Noon. And Singin' in the Rain with Gene Kelly was the favored picture. It was all like a dream to her, the dream she had had since her childhood in the valley.

  Happy? He asked as he smiled at her one night after they made love, and she nodded peacefully. She was happy, strangely enough even though she didn't love him. He took care of her, he pampered her, he saw that everyone was kind to her, and when she started her new movie, they treated her like a queen. She was important now. She was Ernie Salvatore's girl. She wanted more than that eventually. She wanted to be a good actress, and singer, although she seldom sang now. It was part of another life. And she was concentrating mostly on her acting. But what she had with Ernie was very pleasant. She worked hard with her voice coach and the acting teachers who came to the house now to teach her some of the fine points of acting. She had a good memory, and good timing when she delivered her lines. She was always on time, and never made a fuss. People liked her on the set because she worked hard and was well prepared. Little by little, the acting community was coming to know and respect her. And most of them also knew about Ernie. The Rolls picked her up at night, and sometimes Ernie was waiting in the backseat with a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket filled with ice, and two Baccarat glasses. It was a way of life she had only read about, and now it was hers. All of it. The dream had come true. She had become what she always wanted, and for the moment she didn't care about how much she had sacrificed to get it.

  She finished the second film in late May, and Ernie took her to Mexico for a few days. He said he had some business to do there, and she enjoyed seeing something so new and different. There were sweet little children wandering the street in bare feet with bright happy faces and big eyes, there were bright costumes, interesting sights. She loved it, although she knew very little of Ernie. And when they got back to L.A., he handed her a script with a smile, as he bent to kiss her when he came home from his office. He was looking as trim and elegant as usual, and there were moments when it was almost like being married. She was used to him by then, it was comfortable being with him, and he never pressed her to say what she didn't feel. It wasn't important to him.

  What's that? She grinned. They were going to the Cocoanut Grove that night for dinner and dancing.

  Your Academy Award. Looks like you've made it, kid. It was a script, but for another studio with a role made for her, and he had gotten it for her. Word was getting around. She was in the papers constantly, he was paying his press people a fortune to spark everyone's interest in Crystal. And when he took her anywhere, people stared at her in disbelief. People just didn't look like that. Not even in Hollywood. She still had the wary look of a doe emerging from the woods, and with it a body that caught everyone's attention. He taught her how to dress, how to walk, how to enter a room so that everyone would stop what they were doing. And he had to admit, she was a natural. She was going to be a big star one day. A very big one. He had no doubt now, especially with the offer that had just come across his desk, and soon there would be others. And she belonged to him anyway. And one day, if he had to, he would tell her.

  The script was for a movie that would begin in July, and the woman they'd
signed for the supporting role had picked a fight with the star, so they had to fire her. They were desperately searching for someone else, and Crystal fit the bill perfectly. Besides, she already had a reputation for being easy to work with, and in Hollywood that was rarer than diamonds. She was going to make it big, and quickly.

  There were times when Ernie even wondered if he loved her, not that it mattered to him. He was past all that. At forty-five, he'd been divorced five times, and he had two kids, somewhere in Pittsburgh, both of them were older than Crystal, and he hadn't seen them since they were babies.

  She spent hours reading the script and making notes. It was a good part and she was amazed they would even consider her for it. She had more lines than she'd had in the other two, and this one was going to be a great deal harder, it required a lot of emotion, and she knew she'd have to work hard with all her coaches, but she loved it. Ernie, it's wonderful, she told him when she found him at the pool. He had a phone out there, and he was always making deals and calls and signing papers. Even in the Polo Lounge they never left him alone. Sometimes he spent the night there in a bungalow with business associates until a deal was settled.

  It's a good picture, Crystal. It's going to do you a lot of good.

  But for a moment she looked worried as she sat down and looked up at him. Do you think I can do it?

  He laughed at her, and kissed a handful of the soft blond hair. It took the hairdressers on the set forever to put it up, but she had flatly refused to cut it. And she was the only girl he knew in Hollywood who would have cared if she could do justice to the picture. Most of them only wanted to get parts for what they would do for them, without a second thought for the quality of their work, but not Crystal. It was what set her apart from the rest, that and her looks. He had picked himself a winner. You'll do a great job.

  I'll have to work like a dog to remember all those lines.

  You'll be fine. They went out to celebrate that night, and she worked night and day on the script before her first day on the set.

  They started on July ninth, and for the first two weeks she hardly slept. She worked with her coaches until after midnight. And at four o'clock every morning she got up. And at five the chauffeur drove her to the studio. William Holden and Henry Fonda were in the movie with her, and she was awestruck when she first met them. They were friendly to her and everyone treated her with respect, but she never had time to make friends. She worked too hard to talk to anyone or hang around after work. And her coaches even came to her dressing room on the set during her lunch break.

  She even saw Clark Gable on the set once, visiting a friend, and she thought she'd never seen a better-looking man. She told Ernie about it that night in excited tones, and he laughed.

  Wait a couple of months. He'll be telling his friends he saw Crystal Wyatt! She laughed at him. Ernie always made her feel so important. But she hardly saw him these days. She was too busy on the set, and she had no time to go out. She felt like a recluse, and she was barricaded in her dressing room, studying as usual, when someone pounded on the door four days later. She heard excited shouts and opened the door to see what had happened.

  It's over! It's over!

  The picture? She looked shocked, wondering what had gone wrong. They had barely started, and this one was scheduled to be longer than the others. They had told her to plan on working through September.

  The war! One of the stagehands was standing in front of her with tears of joy rolling down his face. He had two brothers over there, and suddenly Crystal gasped as she understood. The war in Korea is over! He threw his arms around her and they embraced as tears filled her eyes too. For months now, she had tried to forget him. And she had never answered the letter he'd written to her in April. But he would be coming home now, like the others. Spencer ' the man she'd betrayed when she moved in with Ernie ' and now he'd be coming home. But to whom? He was still married to Elizabeth. And she was living with Ernie. And unless Pearl told him, he wouldn't even know where to find her. And for an odd moment, as she watched the others laughing and talking and crying, she wondered what she would do now.

  Elizabeth stood behind the gate, trying to see his face, pushed on all sides by the crowds that had come to greet them. It had taken him three weeks to muster out, and she had wanted to meet him in Japan and fly to Honolulu for a few days. But the army had insisted he fly back to San Francisco, and he would be free the moment he set foot on terra firma. Her parents were there, and his, and there were hundreds of women talking anxiously. They were the lucky ones. There were countless others who stayed home and mourned. No one was coming home to them. But Spencer had survived it. He had been wounded once, but it had only been a flesh wound and he had been back in combat a week later. It had been an ugly war, a police action that had cost lives, the second war he had served in in twelve years.

  She had taken a month off from work, and they were going to go to the lake with her parents. The Barclays had invited his parents to come too, although he didn't know it yet. And there was a huge surprise party planned at the house in San Francisco.

  As Elizabeth watched him hurrying out of the plane, she straightened her hat, and stood nervously waiting. It had been a long time since she'd seen him, and now everything would be very different. Their stays at the Imperial Hotel had become awkward eventually because he was under so much strain and now this was real life again, which might take even more adjustment. They had never really lived together before the war, and he'd been gone for three years now. And at twenty-four she had become very independent and she was up to her ears in politics. She had entr+!e everywhere, and she had met some very interesting people in Washington during his absence. But the last thing on her mind was politics as she finally saw him. He seemed very tall and thin as he looked over the crowd, and then walked slowly toward them, conversing with a few of his men. He still hadn't seen her. She saw him shake hands with them and then they hurried off to find their wives, and he continued through the crowd as she pressed toward him. His mother was crying, having just seen her son for the first time in three years, but he still didn't know that they were there. His eyes were sad as he scanned the crowd, and there was gray in his hair that hadn't been there before. At thirty-four he looked even more handsome than he had the day Elizabeth met him at her parents' dinner. And then suddenly, with a look of surprise, he saw her face beneath the big straw hat, and he hesitated for a moment and then dropped his duffel bag and ran toward her, pulling her into his arms and off her feet as he swung her around, and his parents hurried toward him. Even Justice Barclay had a tear in his eye as he shook Spencer's hand heartily, and Priscilla was crying openly as she hugged him.

  It's so good to have you back safe and sound.

  Thank you. He hugged and kissed them all and his mother saw something different in his eyes, something that hadn't been there before, and that worried her. It was the kind of grief she had known when her oldest son died. He looked as though he had lost something in the war, a faith, a belief, a sureness he had had before. It had never been a war he believed in.

  They crowded into the waiting limousine and drove to the house on Broadway chatting and talking and laughing and crying. The two older women looked at each other several times in sympathy, with tender smiles. They were the mothers of sons, and sometimes that wasn't easy. Only Elizabeth was in high spirits as she held her husband's hand, and he had an arm comfortably around her shoulders. But they had seen each other in Japan several times, unlike their parents who hadn't seen him since the war had started three years before. It had been a long, long time, for all of them, and Spencer showed it most of all. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, speaking to all and none, as Elizabeth chatted animatedly with her mother.

  I can't believe I'm home. He wasn't yet, but this was close enough. He was back on American soil, with his wife at his side. But that was something he still had to deal with. He had been torturing himself about it ever since he'd left San Francisco.

  Wel
come home, Son. His father patted his arm and tears choked him as Spencer reached over and squeezed his hand hard.

  I love you, Dad. Christ, I hope this country stays out of trouble for a while. I've had it.

  I hope this time you didn't stay in the reserves, Elizabeth chided him with a smile, and he laughed.

  Not on your life. They're going to have to call on another boy next time. I'm staying home to get fat and sit on my ass while my wife has babies. He said it half jokingly and also to test the waters. There were a lot of things he wanted to discuss with her and that one was important to him. Elizabeth made no comment and only smiled, but nothing had changed when they closed the bedroom door shortly after they got to the house on Broadway. He threw his uniform on the floor and longed to see it burn, and after a shower he approached Elizabeth with caution. He had resolved a lot in his mind while he was gone, but not everything. Elizabeth was more real to him now because he hadn't heard from Crystal in so long, and she had begun retreating into his dreams again. Although he missed her, he hadn't decided what to do about Elizabeth and their marriage. She had changed a lot in three years and there were a lot of things he wanted to know about her, especially whether or not she wanted children. But he had decided long since that he wasn't going to play games with her anymore. He wanted to know exactly who she was and what she wanted, and if it wasn't right for him, they weren't going to stay married. He had to give her a chance, but he had a right to what he wanted, too, and he wasn't sure it was Elizabeth Barclay. He had seen too many men die, seen too much pain, to waste his life now with the wrong woman. Life was too short, and at thirty-four, his was already half over. The meaning of life had become too dear to him to waste even a moment with a woman he didn't want to be with. And he brought the subject up as she sat in the bathtub that afternoon as they dressed for dinner. She was luxuriating in a froth of scented bubbles. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the tub, freshly showered with a towel around his waist, feeling a little awkward with her. He looked handsomer than ever. His body was as firm as a boy's. It had been a hard life for all of them in Korea.