Hepburn's Necklace

by Jan Moran

  Michael chuckled. “Got to hand it to you and Patricia. Miracle workers, you are.”

  “Patricia always seems to know exactly what to do. She’s a natural.” Ruby laughed at herself. “I didn’t know half of what she does.”

  “My wife was meant for this.” Michael raked his knuckles against his scruffy beard. “Maybe we’ll have one soon,” he added with a rare glimmer of hope in his eyes.

  Ruby nodded. During the long hours of caring for the baby together, Patricia had lamented to Ruby about her inability to conceive. “In the meantime, you’ll have Mariangela,” Ruby assured her. “You don’t know how much I will appreciate your looking after her when I go back to work.” Patricia’s eyes gleamed with such brightness that Ruby’s pain was eased, too.

  Blaze trotted toward Ruby, nudging her to play, but Ruby didn’t have the energy. She rubbed the mare’s nose. “Soon, girl. Soon.”

  “I should be thanking you,” Michael said, brushing his hand over the mare’s coat. “Patricia hasn’t been this happy in a long time.”

  Ruby thought of Michael as the brother she’d never have. “Mariangela will grow up thinking of you as her father.” As she uttered the last word, her throat closed around it. Niccolò would have been such a good father. In her mind’s eye, she could see them together. Niccolò would have cradled Mariangela in his strong arms against his chest, singing Italian lullabies to her.

  “And I couldn’t be prouder to fill that role for her,” Michael said. “That’s a big responsibility, but I want you to know that I will always look after her for you.”

  “I know you will.” Ruby managed a smile before leading Blaze back to her stall. “We’ll go for a ride soon,” Ruby whispered, and the horse neighed in response. Ruby longed for respites, however brief. Five or ten minutes for a bath, a few minutes outside.

  As she walked back to the house, Ruby heard the telephone trill through the open window. “I’ll get it,” she called out, racing through the door.

  In the kitchen, she hurried to the telephone attached to the wall. “Hello?”

  Her agent’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Ruby, it’s Joseph. When will you be ready to audition for another part?”

  Ruby grinned. Joseph Applebaum always got right down to business. “Not until July or August.” Though she still wasn’t talking to her father, her mother had indicated that supplies would be running low by then.

  “You’re going to be busy in the fall,” Joseph said. “Diary of a Pioneer Woman will be released in September, followed by the film you just finished. The word on the street is that your performances are astounding.”

  “That’s a relief,” Ruby said.

  Joseph’s voice rose with excitement. “You might even be nominated for awards. I’m already working on that. Getting the right people at the premier.”

  “When is Roman Holiday coming out?” Ruby asked. She needed to see it. Already, last summer seemed like a dream. The thought of seeing Niccolò on the screen was sobering.

  “September,” Joseph said. “The premiere is in August, I believe.”

  “Could I go?” Ruby chewed on her lip.

  “I’ll get right on it,” Joseph said. “You’re about to be a star, Ruby. I hope you’re ready.”

  The thought seemed so far away.

  “Studio publicists are already releasing your photos to fan magazines. Building interest in our new star. I also got a contract to use your likeness for a nail polish endorsement.”

  Ruby looked at her short, bare nails and laughed. “I’ve only used nail varnish a couple of times,” she said. Once in Rome for a party, and another time in Los Angeles for an important event at the Roosevelt Hotel. Ruby recalled the fancy evening. At the party around the pool, Ruby had spotted Marilyn Monroe, a blond actress the press often called a love goddess. When Joseph had told Ruby that Marilyn had posed sans coverage for a calendar, she’d assured him that she’d never do such a thing.

  Her mother would die to see her with polish on her fingernails—except in films—let alone see her daughter’s nude body welcoming in the month of May. And she couldn’t even imagine the level of rage her father would have.

  “I’ll send you some fan mags with your photos,” Joseph said. “Get used to seeing your picture because it’s going to be plastered all over Sunset Boulevard when you return.”

  “Just make sure the checks don’t bounce,” Ruby told him before she hung up the telephone. She loved acting, and she sure liked being paid, but she didn’t care much about fame.

  Her privacy was much more important.

  Still, Ruby was itching to go back to work. As much as she loved Mariangela, she was secretly relieved that Patricia could care for her for a while. Though Ruby hated to admit it, she was exhausted. Not only from caring for her baby but also from the windswept monotony of the ranch. After spending the summer in Italy, she yearned to see more of the world. She had a life ahead of her, and she was eager to live it.

  If only Niccolò were still by her side. These last few months, she had reeled through a gamut of emotions, from disbelief to anger to grief. The man she’d married would have contacted her if at all possible—and certainly if he planned to have their marriage annulled. That she was sure of. So far, none of the letters of inquiry she’d sent to Italy or people on the production had been fruitful.

  Blinking through sudden tears, Ruby made her way back to Patricia. When she heard Mariangela cry, her breasts ached with the fullness of milk.

  For now, her baby needed her. Of all her roles, Ruby relished this one the most, as exhausting as it was. Mariangela was a pure little soul, unfettered by the demands of mortgages and money that plagued her mother.

  * * *

  By mid-June, three months after birth, Mariangela had gained weight and taken on a healthy glow. Ruby had nursed Mariangela through the child’s tenuous beginning to her life, and Patricia could now relieve her for longer periods.

  Now, under sunny skies, Ruby pushed Blaze on, galloping through pastures on the first ride she’d had since Mariangela was born. After they returned, Blaze neighed and pranced, and Ruby fed her a treat of carrots. As glorious as the day was, Ruby was feeling anxious about returning to work. She hated to leave Mariangela, but it was necessary. Spring rains had been sparse, and the summer heat was settling in early.

  After returning to the house, Ruby stopped in the kitchen to wash up before seeing her baby. Her brother-in-law walked into the kitchen.

  “Have a good ride?” Michael asked.

  As Ruby dried her hands on a cotton dish towel, she grinned. “The best. When you haven’t been able to do something you love, it’s even sweeter when you finally can.”

  “If it weren’t for you and Patricia, little Mari wouldn’t have had a chance.”

  Mari. Michael had given the baby this nickname, saying that Mariangela was too long for him to pronounce, even though Ruby thought the name rolled beautifully off Patricia’s tongue. Ruby wanted her baby to appreciate her Italian heritage as she grew older. If only Mariangela could have known Niccolò.

  “Letter for you in here,” Michael said, depositing the post on the kitchen table.

  Ruby’s heart fluttered with anticipation. Despite what she felt about Niccolò’s possible demise, every time Michael brought the mail from the post office, she checked it, praying that Vivienne had received mail and forwarded it. But now, nine months since she’d heard from him, the chance was growing slimmer by the week.

  “It’s from my agent.” Ruby slid open the envelope, postmarked Hollywood.

  Scanning the letter, Ruby felt a surge of hope.

  “What’s good ol’ Joseph have to say?” Michael asked.

  “He’s made arrangements for me to go to the premiere of Roman Holiday in New York. It’s in August, and he’s sending a train ticket.” Ruby’s pulse quickened. Perhaps it was too much to hope for, but she prayed that by some miracle, Niccolò—if he were alive—might find a way to attend the premiere. Or maybe s
omeone among the cast or crew had seen him or heard from him.

  Ruby pulled out a sheet of writing paper from a kitchen drawer. Taking a pen, she quickly composed a brief letter.

  Send the ticket. I’ll meet you there. And then she added, Will be ready for auditions then. Must return to work.

  After tucking the letter into an envelope, she licked the flap and sealed it with the prayer that Niccolò might somehow be there. Or, at the very least, she might learn what had happened to him.

  Chapter 28

  New York, 1953

  * * *

  Ruby stood before a full-length mirror at the Plaza Hotel while the studio’s costume supervisor tried to zip her into a strapless, lemon-yellow dress with a nipped waist.

  “Will it close?” Ruby asked, sucking in her stomach.

  “It’s good until the bustline,” David said. “And I had this made to your exact measurements from last summer.” Looking askance at her fuller figure, he asked, “How did you blossom so in under a year?”

  Ruby shrugged. “I’ve been doing a lot of special exercises.” She’d tried to wean Mariangela before she left, but her décolletage was definitely more impressive than last year.

  Arching an eyebrow, David eyed her with a measure of disbelief. “Must be quite the exercises. You were skinny as a whippet last year.”

  As he marked the dress with straight pins and dressmaker’s chalk, Ruby summoned her courage. “Have you heard anything from Niccolò since last summer?” If a sliver of a chance remained that Niccolò was still alive, she might discover a clue here among those they had worked with on the set.

  David removed a pin from his mouth. “Your sweetheart? Oh, gee, I’m sorry to say I haven’t. I thought you two kids would stick.”

  Ruby blinked back tears that rushed to her eyes.

  “Oh, come on now, sweetheart.” He handed her a tissue. “In this business, it’s hard to know anyone, especially actors. Then you get to know them—the real person—and the relationship is never the same. A lot of folks in this biz are just putting on an act.”

  “Not all of us,” Ruby said, although she certainly was now. Perhaps more than anyone else.

  “I don’t know about that,” David said. “You’ve sure changed from that naïve girl I met last summer. Is it an act, or is it for real?”

  “Maybe I’ve just grown up,” Ruby replied. Was it that obvious?

  “Beautifully, too.” David stepped back to appraise his work. “Word around town is that you’re in the running for Charlie’s next leading lady.” At that, he frowned. “But watch out for him. Bad temper. He blows hot and cold.”

  Not unlike her father. “I can handle that.”

  David clapped his hands. “Give me fifteen or twenty minutes, and you’ll be red-carpet-ready. Now, off with the dress.”

  Curving up a corner of her mouth, Ruby motioned for David to turn around while she slipped off her dress and put on a Plaza Hotel robe.

  While she waited, Ruby put on the costume jewelry David had brought for her to wear, along with a special piece she’d brought with her. Soon, he returned with the dress. This time, it was a perfect fit.

  Ruby made her way from the icy air conditioning of the Plaza outside into the muggy heat of New York. Cars were waiting to ferry them to the premiere. Ruby was so nervous she could hardly speak. What if Niccolò were there?

  Their line of cars stopped, and Ruby stepped from the vehicle at the curb. The marquee above blazed the title, Roman Holiday. Ahead of her was Audrey Hepburn, who wore a strapless evening dress and opera-length white gloves. The actress’s short, pixie haircut looked cool and chic, while Ruby’s wavy locks were already sticky on her neck.

  “This way, Miss Hepburn,” a photographer called out.

  Ruby watched as Audrey paused on the red carpet to flash her wide smile and wave. She admired how Audrey and the rest of the cast looked so effortlessly stylish and confident, despite the heatwave that gripped the city this late August day. Though Ruby was used to such temperatures, she wasn’t accustomed to wearing evening wear in the heat.

  While cameras flashed and popped, Ruby touched the silver half-heart pendant she wore and turned to scan the crowd, longing to see the one person she’d hoped would be here.

  Niccolò. If only…

  “Move along, miss.” One of the organizers waved her onto the red carpet. “It’s your turn.”

  Trying not to let her shoulders sag with disappointment, she straightened and tilted her chin.

  Ruby stepped onto the red carpet for her turn with the photographers, who began to call out her name.

  “Miss Raines! This way, turn right. Miss Raines, over here!”

  The attention was startling, and her first thought was, How do they know my name? Recovering quickly, she smiled and twirled in her dress, looking coquettishly over her shoulder with a hand on her hip—a move that David had just taught her.

  Following Audrey’s lead, Ruby posed and focused on cool thoughts—like skinny-dipping in the swimming hole back home or braving the chilly Pacific waters at Venice Beach in Los Angeles.

  Even though Ruby’s scene was cut, Joseph got her on the invitation list. He’d insisted she go to New York, saying it was good exposure. Ruby glanced around at all the stars and fans that lined the street. She’d seen premieres on newsreels in theaters before the main film, but this event was more exciting than she could have imagined. Surprisingly, people were calling her name. Then she remembered the fan magazines that Joseph had mentioned.

  As exhilarating as it all was, Ruby looked around, still harboring hope that Niccolò might appear. A lump formed in her throat. At the very least, Ruby yearned to catch glimpses of Niccolò in the film.

  Just ahead, Ruby saw Joseph waiting for her. She wasn’t his only client here today.

  “Perfect timing, Ruby. Right behind Miss Hepburn.” Joseph winked and offered her his arm. Her agent’s sandy, sun-streaked hair made him appear even more youthful than his thirty years. Though he was young, Joseph had great knowledge of the industry. His mother and father had performed in Vaudeville and on radio, and one uncle was a screenwriter.

  “Glad you came out for this,” Joseph said. “Your career is about to explode. Ready to start auditions again?”

  “Sure.” Recalling what David had mentioned, she asked, “Who’s Charlie? I heard I’m being considered for a part with someone named Charlie.”

  Joseph chuckled and named one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. “If you get the part, you can’t take off again like you did. I’m going to need a commitment from you.”

  “You know why I had to take time off,” Ruby said pointedly.

  “And did you work out your problem?”

  Ruby wanted to scream. “Mariangela is not a problem to be solved.”

  “Shh, not here.” Joseph took her arm and pulled her aside from the crowd. “I’m going to forget you said that,” he whispered. “You’re too young to have had…that experience.”

  “I’m eighteen now.”

  Joseph drew a hand over his face. “Don’t broadcast this issue to anyone, especially not the press.”

  Ruby loved Mariangela with all her heart. Why should she keep her hidden as if she’d done something wrong? After all, she had been married. “I love this child so much. She was premature, you know, and almost died.”

  Joseph heaved a sigh. “Okay, I get it. But I’m warning you, keep this quiet.”

  “I’m still going to need time between shoots to go home to Texas.” Ruby planned to keep a small apartment in Hollywood to minimize her contact with Vivienne, who’d moved to another apartment.

  Joseph sighed. “I’ll try, but I don’t control the filming schedule.”

  “I can’t be gone too long at a stretch.”

  Ruby recalled the day she had left for New York. Leaving Mariangela with Patricia had been gut-wrenching. Though Patricia and Michael had repeatedly assured her, she’d been worried about everything, from how often her baby would eat to
where she would now sleep. Ruby wanted Mariangela to stay in the bedroom with Patricia and Michael, so they’d hear her if she cried. At some point, they would move Mariangela into the nursery, but Ruby was anxious about her being lonely or left to cry if no one heard her.

  Feeling anxious, Ruby turned to Joseph. “Did Niccolò from Italy ever contact you? I told you all about him.”

  “You’ve asked me this before,” Joseph said quietly. “He never did, Ruby. And for the record, I’m genuinely sorry about what you went through. I want you to know that.”

  “Thanks.” Ruby drew a full breath, and her dress felt even tighter. “If he contacted you, you’d tell me, right?”

  “Of course, I would. But you must move on, Ruby. This business moves fast, and I don’t want to see you left behind.”

  Joseph accompanied her into the theater, and they took their seats. When the lights went down, Ruby was alert, watching every frame to see if she could catch a glimpse of Niccolò.

  “There,” she cried out, pointing at the screen. People around her laughed, and Joseph sat up to pay attention. Ruby leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and warming her silver half-heart pendant in her palm.

  On the screen, Ruby and Niccolò were seated at a table in front of a café. When Audrey and Gregory drove through the tables on a Vespa, Ruby leapt up in surprise, and Niccolò took her in his arms to protect her. The expression on his face was one of sweet adoration.

  While others laughed at the scene, Ruby choked back a sob. Joseph quickly passed a monogrammed handkerchief to her. Dabbing her eyes, she continued watching the film, picking out Niccolò in different crowd scenes. Watching him was so painful, and yet, she loved reliving every moment. She remembered their conversations and how he’d held her and kissed her.

  In the final scene, Niccolò played the part of a news reporter in the press crowd behind Gregory Peck and Eddie Albert while Audrey performed Princess Ann’s heart-rending farewell. Niccolò was so handsome and convincing that Ruby could hardly control her flow of tears. It didn’t seem possible that she might never see Niccolò again except on film.