by Mario Puzo
Finally we were standing in the sunlit street outside the bank. Cully was tremendously excited. “We’ve done it,” he said. “We’re home free.”
I shook my head. “How could you take such a risk?” I said. “It’s a crazy way to handle so much money.”
Cully smiled at me. “What the hell kind of business do you think it is running a Vegas casino? It’s all risk. I’ve got a risky job. And on this I had a big percentage going with me.”
When we got into a cab, Cully instructed the driver to take us to the airport. “Jesus,” I said, “we go halfway across the world and I don’t even get to eat a meal in Hong Kong?”
“Let’s not press our luck,” Cully said. “Somebody may think we still have the money. Let’s just get the hell home.”
On the long plane ride back to the States, Cully got very lucky and won back seven of the ten grand he owed me. He would have won it all back if I hadn’t quit. “Come on,” he said. “Give me a chance to get even. Be fair.”
I looked at him straight in the eye. “No,” I said, “I want to outsmart you just once on this trip.”
That shook him up a little and he let me sleep the rest of the way back to Los Angeles. I kept him company while he was waiting for his flight to Vegas. While I was sleeping, he had been thinking things over and he must have figured I saw the name plate on the case.
“Listen,” he said. “You have to believe me. If you had gotten into trouble on this trip, me and Gronevelt and Fummiro would have gotten you out. But I appreciate what you did. I couldn’t have made the trip without you, I didn’t have the nerve.”
I laughed. “You owe me three grand from the gin,” I said. “Just put it in the Xanadu cage and I’ll use it for a baccarat stake.”
“Sure thing,” Cully said. “Listen,” he said. “Is that the only way you can cheat on your broads and feel safe, with three thousand miles between them? The world isn’t big enough to cheat more than two more times.”
We both laughed and shook hands before he got on the plane. He was still my buddy, old Countdown Cully, I just couldn’t trust him all the way. I had always known what he was and accepted his friendship. How could I be angry when he was true to his character?
I walked through the LA terminal of Western Airlines and stopped by the phones. I had to call Janelle and tell her I was in town. I wondered if I should tell her I had been in Japan, but I decided not to. I would act in the Gronevelt tradition. And then I remembered something else. I didn’t have any presents from the Orient for Valerie and the kids.
Chapter 36
In a way it’s interesting being crazy about somebody who’s no longer crazy about you. You go sort of blind and deaf. Or choose to. It was nearly a year before I heard the almost inaudible tick of Janelle dealing seconds, and yet I had had plenty of warnings, plenty of hints.
On one of my trips back to Los Angeles my plane got in a half hour early. Janelle always met me, but she wasn’t there and I walked through the terminal and waited outside. In the back of my head, way back, I was thinking I would catch her at something. I didn’t know what. Maybe a guy she had picked up for a drink while waiting for the plane. Maybe dropping off another boyfriend catching a plane out of Los Angeles, anything. I was not your trusting lover.
And I did catch her, but not in the way I thought. I saw her come out of the parking lot and cross the wide double streets to the terminal. She was walking very slowly, very reluctantly. She wore a long gray skirt and a white blouse, and her long blond hair was pinned up around her head. At that moment I had almost a sense of pity for her. She looked so reluctant, as if she were a child going to a party her parents had made her go to. On the other side of the continent I had been an hour early for my plane. I had rushed through the terminal to meet her. I was dying to see her, but she, obviously, was not dying to see me. As I was thinking this, she lifted her head and saw me and her face became radiant and then she was hugging and kissing me and I forgot what I had seen.
During this visit she was rehearsing days for a play that was to open in a few weeks. Since I was working at the studio this was fine. We saw each other at night. She would call me at the studio to tell me what time she would be through rehearsing. When I asked her for a number where I could call her, she told me there was no phone in the theater.
Then one evening, when her rehearsal ran late, I went to the theater to pick her up. As we were about to leave, a girl came out of the backstage office and said to her, “Janelle, Mr. Evarts is calling you,” and she led the way to the phone.
When Janelle came out of the office, her face was rosy and flushed with pleasure, but then she took one look at me and said, “That’s the first time he called. I didn’t even know they could get me on the phone in the theater.”
I heard that tick of the second card being dealt. I still had so much pleasure with her company, with her body, in just looking at her face. I still loved the expression that went across her eyes and mouth. I loved her eyes. They could get such a hurt look and yet be so gay. I thought her mouth the most beautiful in the world. Hell, I was really still a kid. It didn’t matter that I knew she was deceiving me. She really hated to lie and did it badly. In a funny kind of way she told you she was lying. Even that was a fake-out.
And it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. I suffered, sure, but it was still a good bargain. Yet as time went on, I enjoyed her less and she made me suffer more.
I was sure she and Alice were lovers. One week, when Alice was out of town on a movie production job, I went to Janelle’s and Alice’s apartment to spend the night. Alice called Janelle long distance to chat with her. Janelle was very short with her, almost angry. A half hour later, when we were making love, the phone rang again. Janelle reached over, took the phone off the hook and threw the receiver under the bed.
One of the things I liked about her was that she hated to be interrupted while making love. Sometimes, at the hotel, she wouldn’t let me answer the phone or even answer the door if a waiter was bringing in food or drinks when we were on our way to bed.
A week later in my hotel on a Sunday morning I called Janelle at her apartment. I knew she usually slept late, so I didn’t call until eleven o’clock. I got a busy signal. I waited a half hour and called again. I got a busy signal. Then I called every ten minutes for an hour and kept getting a busy signal, and suddenly I got a flash of Janelle and Alice in bed, the phone off its hook. When I finally did get through, it was Alice who answered the phone, her voice soft and happy. I was sure they were lovers.
Another day we were planning a trip to Santa Barbara when she got a rush call to go to a producer’s office to read for a part. She said it would take only one-half hour, so I went to the studio with her. The producer was an old friend of hers, and when he came into the office, he made a tender, affectionate gesture, brushing his fingers along her face, and she smiled at him. I read the gesture immediately. It was the tenderness of a former lover, now a dear friend.
When we were on our way to Santa Barbara, I asked Janelle if she had ever been to bed with the producer. She turned to me and said, “Yes.” And I didn’t ask her any more questions.
One night we had a date for dinner and I went to her apartment. She was getting dressed. Alice opened the door for me. I always liked her and in a funny kind of way I didn’t mind that she was Janelle’s lover. I still wasn’t really sure. Alice always kissed me on the lips, a very sweet kiss, she always seemed to enjoy my company. We got along fine. But you could sense the lack of femininity in her. She was very thin, wore tight shirts that showed that she had surprisingly full breasts but was very businesslike. She gave me a drink and put on an Edith Piaf record and we waited until Janelle came out of the bathroom.
Janelle kissed me and said, “Merlyn, I’m sorry, I tried to call you at the hotel. I have to rehearse tonight. The director’s going to come by and pick me up.”
I was stunned. Again I heard the tick of the second card. She was smiling at me radiantly, but there wa
s a little quiver to her mouth which made me think she was lying. She was searching my face intently with her eyes. She wanted me to believe her and she saw that I didn’t. She said, “He’s coming here to pick me up. I’ll try and get through by eleven.”
“That’s OK,” I said. Over her shoulder I could see Alice looking down in her glass, not watching us, pointedly trying not to hear what we were saying.
So I waited around, and sure enough, the director came up. He was a young guy but already almost bald, and he was very businesslike and efficient. He didn’t have time for a drink. He said patiently to Janelle, “We’re rehearsing at my place. I want you absolutely perfect for this dress rehearsal tomorrow. Evarts and I have changed some lines and some business.”
He turned to me. “I'm sorry I spoiled your evening, but that’s show business.” He parodied the cliche.
He seemed like a nice guy. I gave him and Janelle a cold smile. “It’s OK,” I said. “Take as long as you like.”
At this Janelle became a little panicky. She said to the director, “Do you think we can get through by ten?”
And the director said, “If we really work hard, maybe.”
Janelle said, “Why don’t you wait here with Alice and I'll get back by ten and we can still go to dinner? Is that all right?”
I said, “Sure.”
So I waited with Alice after they left and we talked to each other. She said she had redecorated the apartment and she took me by the hand and led me through the rooms. It was really charming. The kitchen was fixed up with special shutters, the cupboards were decorated with some sort of inlaid patterns. Copper pots and pans were hanging on the ceiling.
“It’s lovely,” I said. “I can’t imagine Janelle doing all this.”
Alice laughed. “No,” she said. “I’m the homebody.”
Then she led me through the three bedrooms. One was obviously a child’s bedroom.
“That’s for Janelle’s son when he comes to visit us.”
Then she led me to the master bedroom, which had a huge bed. She had really changed it. It was utterly feminine with dolls against the walls, big pillows on a sofa and a television at the foot of the bed.
And then I said, “Whose bedroom is this?”
Alice said, “Mine.”
We went to the third bedroom, which was a shambles. It was obviously used as a small storeroom for the apartment. All kinds of odds and ends of furniture scattered all over the room. The bed was small with a quilt on it.
“And whose bedroom is this?” I said mockingly, a hairy Goldilocks.
“Janelle’s,” Alice said. As she said this, she let go of my hand and turned her head away.
I knew she was lying and that she and Janelle shared the huge bedroom. We went back into the sitting room and we waited.
At ten thirty the phone rang. It was Janelle. “Oh, God!” she said. Her voice was as dramatic as if she had a fatal illness. “We’re not finished. We won’t be finished for another hour. Do you want to wait?”
I laughed. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
“I’ll call you again,” Janelle said. “As soon as I know we’re through. Is that OK?”
“Sure,” I said.
I waited with Alice until twelve o’clock. She wanted to make me something to eat, but I wasn’t hungry. By this time I was enjoying myself. There is nothing so funny as to be made an utter fool of.
At midnight the phone rang again and I knew what she would say and she said it. They weren’t through yet. They didn’t know what time they would be through.
I was very cheerful with her. I knew that she would be tired. That I wouldn’t see her that night and I would call her the next day from home.
“Darling, you’re sweet, you’re so sweet. I’m really sorry,” Janelle said. “Call me tomorrow afternoon.”
I said good-night to Alice and she kissed me at the door and it was a sisterly kiss and she said, “You’re going to call Janelle tomorrow, aren’t you?”
I said, “Sure. I’ll call her from home.”
The next morning I caught the early plane to New York, and at the terminal in Kennedy Airport I called Janelle. She was delighted to hear from me. “I was afraid you wouldn’t call.”
I said, “I promised I’d call.”
She said, “We worked until three this morning and the dress rehearsal isn’t until nine o’clock tonight. I could come over to the hotel for a couple of hours if you want to see me.”
I said, “Sure I want to see you. But I'm in New York. I told your I’d call you from home.”
There was a long pause on the other side of the phone.
“I see,” she said.
“OK”, I said. “I’ll call you when I’m coming to Los Angeles again. OK?”
There was another long pause on the phone and she said, “You’ve been incredibly good for me, but I can’t let you hurt me anymore.”
And then she hung up the phone.
But on my next trip to California we made up and started all over again. She wanted to be completely honest with me; there were to be no more misunderstandings. She swore she hadn’t been to bed with Evarts and the director. That she was always completely honest with me. That she would never lie to me again. And to prove it, she told me about Alice and her. It was an interesting story, but it didn’t prove anything, not to me any way. Still, it was nice to know the truth for sure.
Chapter 37
Janelle lived with Alice De Santis for two months before she realized that Alice was in love with her. It took that long because during the day they both worked so hard, Janelle constantly hustling around to interviews arranged by her agent, Alice working long hours as costume designer on a big-budget film.
They had separate bedrooms. But late at night Alice came into Janelle’s room and sat on her bed to gossip. Alice would prepare something to eat and a hot chocolate drink to help them sleep. Usually they talked about their work. Janelle told stories about the subtle and not so subtle passes made at her through the day and they would both laugh. Alice never pointed out that Janelle encouraged these passes with her Southern belle charm.
Alice was a striking-looking, tall woman, very businesslike and hard to the outside world. But she was very soft and gentle with Janelle. She would give Janelle a sisterly kiss before they went to bed in their separate rooms. Janelle admired her for her intelligence, her competent efficiency in her field of costume design.
Alice finished work on her picture at the same time that Janelle’s son, Richard, came up to spend part of his summer vacation with Janelle. Usually, when her son came to visit, Janelle would devote all her time to taking him around Los Angeles, to shows, to a skating rink, to Disneyland. Sometimes she would rent a small apartment on the beach for a week. She always enjoyed her son’s visit and was always happy for the month he was with her. This one summer, as luck would have it, she got a small part in a TV series which would keep her busy most of the time but would also pay her living for a year. She started to write a long letter to her ex-husband to explain why Richard could not visit her this summer, and then she put her head down on the table and began to weep. It seemed to her as if now she were truly giving up her child.
It was Alice who saved her. She told Janelle to let Richard come. Alice would take him around. She would bring him to visit Janelle on the set to watch her work and whisk him away before he got on the director’s nerves. Alice would take care of him during the day. Then Janelle could be his buddy at night. Janelle felt enormously grateful to Alice.
And when Richard came for his month, they had a great time together. After work Janelle would come back to the apartment and Alice had Richard all scrubbed up for a night on the town. They would all three go to the movies and then have a late snack. It was so comfortable and easy. Janelle realized that she and her former husband had never had such a good time with Richard as she and Alice were having. It was almost a perfect marriage. Alice never quarreled or reproached her. Richard never got sulky or disobed
ient. He lived in what perhaps was a dream of children. A life with two adoring mothers and no father. He loved Alice because she spoiled him in some things and was strict with him only rarely. She took him for tennis lessons during the day and they played together. She taught him Scrabble and how to dance. Alice, in fact, was the perfect father. She was athletic and coordinated, yet with none of a father’s harshness, nothing of male domination. Richard responded extremely well to her. He helped Alice serve Janelle her dinner after work and then watched both women pretty themselves up to go out on the town with him. He loved dressing up too in white slacks and dark blue coat and white frilly shirt and no tie. He loved California.
When the day came for him to go home, Alice and Janelle both brought him to the midnight plane, and then, finally alone again, Janelle and Alice held hands, breathing the sigh of relief a married couple might breathe on the departure of a houseguest. Janelle felt so enormously touched that she gave Alice a tight hug and kiss. Alice turned her head to receive the kiss on her soft, delicately thin mouth. For the fraction of a second she held Janelle’s mouth on hers.
Back in the apartment they had their cocoa together as if nothing had happened. They went to their bedrooms. But Janelle was restless. She knocked on Alice’s bedroom door and went in. She was surprised to find Alice undressed in her lingerie. Though thin, Alice had a full bosom restrained by a very tight bra. They had, of course, seen each other in various stages of undress. But now Alice took off her bra to let her breasts free and then looked at Janelle with a slight smile.
At the sight of the nippled breasts Janelle felt a surge of sexual lust. She could feel herself blushing. It had not occurred to her that she could be attracted to another woman. Especially after Mrs. Wartberg. So when Alice slid under the covers, Janelle sat casually on the edge of her bed, and they talked about the good time they had had with Richard, just the three of them. Suddenly Alice burst into tears.
