~ In All the Empty Places ~
by Janneen Brownell
Disclaimers: This story and characters are all mine and any resemblance to anyone living, dead or on television is in the mind of the reader. Readers who are disturbed by references to physical abuse should read this story with caution. As this is my first story posted to the net, I was conservative with sexual scenes. I hope you enjoy my little tale.
Comments, good or bad, can be sent to ga_onmymind@yahoo.com
5.
I lived for weekends. Although it was never discussed, I was at LAX at 7:15 on Friday nights. Alec always seemed relaxed and refreshed when she came down the corridor. Most people were at least a little tired when the weekends rolled around. I know I was, but it was different for Alec. Life as a volunteer teacher, some time painter was a good one for her. I hoped life as a part?time lover was just as good.
Alec and I settled into a comfortable routine. She usually brought one painting with her and we took this to Elane's studio late Saturday morning. The three of us, and sometimes other friends, would go for brunch. We would make plans with our friends for that night and then spend the day wandering through old haunts. Sundays were spent alone at my condo. Alec had to leave on the 9:30 flight. My condo felt very empty after she was gone. My routine through the week was jammed with work and friends. I accepted almost every invitation I received. I saw movies and plays, went to awards shows. I did anything to make the week go by faster.
Almost two months after they left, Jillian and Rainer were back home. Rainer called me from the ship and asked if I could meet them. It was Friday and I was annoyed to have my routine interrupted. I usually worked until it was time to go to the airport.
Their ship was coming into port at five. I said I would be there. Elane said she would pick up Alec. The last thing I wanted was for her to be left waiting. I did not have to be especially sensitive to know Alec would not appreciate waiting at the airport while I picked up Jillian.
The ship was, thankfully, on time. I was working with a very tight schedule. My annoyance fell away and I became excited when I saw them waving from the deck. I realized how much I had missed my father. I was grateful that Alec had occupied so much of my time. The last two months would have been very lonely.
"Victoria! You look so radiant," he said. I hugged him tight to hide the flush spreading over my cheeks. I was in love with my step?sister. God, that sounded so awful. Alec would laugh when I told her.
"You both look wonderful," I finally was able to say. Jillian and I shared a quick hug. Although she appeared to be happy, she was clinging to Rainer's arm and glancing around furtively.
"Are we ready to leave?" She asked from behind large, dark sunglasses.
Rainer understood immediately that Jillian did not want to attract any attention. He patted her on the hand and we gathered their luggage quickly. We moved easily through the crowd disembarking from the ship. Jillian asked that I take them to Windchase. I was surprised to learn that my father's belongings were now at her estate. Granted, our house was smaller and not as elegant as hers, but Brian Brent did not die in our house. Was it unreasonable to expect her to jump at the chance to leave Windchase?
"You sold the house?" I asked. I was glad I was driving. My voice sounded normal and Rainer could not see the shock in my eyes.
"No, honey. It's yours now."
Oh goody. I was waiting for even a hint Alec wanted me to be with her in Aubres. What I did not need was another tie to LA. "I like my condo, Dad. Put the house on the market. It shouldn't sit empty."
He wanted me to have the house. We spent the drive to Windchase with Rainer listing the many advantages his house had over my condo. I could not disagree without explaining about Alec so I listened in silence.
I drove through the gates with anticipation. I would be with Alec soon. All I had to do was get through the next few minutes. It was too bad it would be rude for me to stay in the car and leave as soon as they had their luggage.
"Stay for dinner, Victoria," Jillian invited once their luggage was stacked in the foyer.
I glanced at my watch. Alec's plane was touching down at LAX. Elane was to pick up Alec and take her to the restaurant. If I hurried, I might beat her by a few minutes. Although the traffic was horrendous away from the airport, they were physically closer to the restaurant than I was at Windchase.
"I have a date I can't break." They tried to pressure me into coming some time over the weekend. When I would not give them that, they reluctantly agreed to dinner on Monday.
~~~~
I was nervously toying with a breadstick when Alec came striding from the dimness of the restaurant. I choose an out of the way Italian place for the cozy, dim atmosphere and the private booths. I was going to need the privacy to explain to this beautiful, annoyed woman why someone else was at the airport to greet her.
"Darling," I began with what I hoped was a steady smile. I felt anything but steady inside.
Alec sat down. The waiter appeared at the table and saved me from all but her cool gaze. She ordered our dinner without consulting me. We would start with a tossed salad and have chicken Parmesan and stuffed artichoke hearts for the main course. Alec's tone was smooth and her smile charming; the waiter never glanced my way to see if I agreed with the meal choice.
"Okay, darling, impress me." Her eyes shone with a sarcastic light.
I could lie. I could concoct some problem with my article or a personal emergency. I did not know if I could look her in the eye and tell a lie. It would violate the trust and honesty were trying to build. If I got away with it once, it would set a bad precedent. And I had no guarantees Alec would never learn the truth. "Rainer called me this afternoon. Their ship came in, so to speak. They weren't more important than you Alec, I just didn't know what else to do."
Alec stared at me for several long, uncomfortable seconds. Her voice was tired and she looked away when she spoke. "I'm sorry Tory. I never wanted you to be put in this position."
Relief is a wonderful feeling. I was all smiles, but Alec was subdued. "I'm so glad you're not angry."
Our salads arrived and we ate in silence for a few minutes. "Victoria," Alec said suddenly, very serious, "I don't expect you to shut Rainer and Jill from your life. I understand that you have a relationship with them. I don't want them in my life, but I expect them to be a part of yours. Please don't ever be afraid of how I'll react again."
I stared at the blonde head bent over her salad. This woman was so different from the Alec I thought I knew. Where did that woman go? Where was her anger?
For the first time since Alec starting coming on the weekends, we did not make love. She laid her head on my shoulder and asked about the wedding. I was surprised. Why was she asking now? She came two days after the wedding and never asked a single question. Two months later is an odd time to become interested.
I closed my eyes to imagine the wedding. "Well, they were married near the cliff. Jillian's dress was a lacy pale blue. It was a beautiful ceremony. Jillian did an excellent job arranging everything."
"Jill's an excellent hostess. She arranged their parties and they were always successes. I'm sure that arranging something that meant this much to her would have been easy."
When Alec talked of her childhood in Aubres, she spoke of England and growing up with Cordelia. Her only mention of Windchase was when she told me there were only three people present the night Brian died. She was five when she went to England and now I wondered just how much of her Los Angeles childhood Alec remembered.
I spoke carefully. The last thing I wanted was to bring up more painful memories. "Alec, what do you remember about Jillian before you went to Moregrove House?"
She rolled over on her side away from me. I turned and wrapped her in my arms. She was quiet. What memories she had of that time must be nothing more than fragments of scenes that were seen through the innocent eyes of a small child.
Her voice was soft and reflective. "I remember thinking she was beautiful and that I wanted to grow up to look like her. She was gone more than I wanted because of the movies. Remember when we rented Time Lost a few years ago? I was on the set a few times, but I never saw it before then. During one scene, I could remember sitting in her chair on the set while the scene was being filmed. She was an incredible actress."
"Did you want to be an actress?" I asked. I felt her smile against my arm.
"Probably, although I cannot recall expressing the desire. I adored my mother. I would sit at her feet and watch her put on her make?up and absorb every word she said."
As she spoke, I could see a very young child sitting at Jillian's feet, adoration on her face. Jillian Young was glamorous and even if Kellen did not fully understand who her mother was, she knew she was larger than life. Magic surrounded her mother and that was not lost on the child.
"What did you learn at your mother's feet?" I asked, playfully.
After a moments silence, she whispered, "I learned to love women at my mother's feet." She snuggled deeper into my embrace and kissed my shoulder. "Goodnight, Tory. I love you."
I stared off into the darkness. Alec's childhood was more than a single act of violence that ended with Brian Brent's death. What steps have to be taken, what acts have to be committed before a five year old child can take a life? I felt Alec relax in my embrace as sleep claimed her. I wanted to protect from everything that would ever hurt her. I was twenty?five years too late.
~~~~
I dreaded Monday night's dinner. I called Windchase at three?thirty with the vain hope that dinner was canceled. Rainer had just returned from two months on a communication free honeymoon. I was hoping that he would revert to form and want to celebrate his first day back at the office by staying late.
One of Jillian's staff answered the phone. I asked for Jillian and gave my name when asked who was calling. My father greeted me instead of Jillian. My heart sank. Jillian's control over my father was impressive. He not only did he not stay late, but he came home early.
"Hi Dad. I'm confirming tonight's dinner. Is it still on?" I did not sound enthused even to myself. I wanted to see my father. I did miss him. I simply did not want to be in that house. The closer I got to Alec and the more I saw how far she has come, the less I could see of Jillian's side.
"Yes, sweetie. We're going to cook out on the patio."
I rang off by promising to be there soon. Monday's are my worst day. The emptiness I felt at Alec's absence peaked on Monday's. Maybe going to Windchase for dinner would be good for me. I could hear about their trip and by the time I got back home, I would be exhausted.
I changed into jeans and a long sleeve T?shirt at home. The days were pleasant, but the nights were chilly. Windchase was a scenic drive from my downtown condo. I listened to the radio and thought of the past two days with Alec.
She had been quiet. She pleaded a rough week at work and I almost bought it. Every one had an off week. It was the drifting away that alerted me to other possibilities, like Jillian being back in Los Angeles. She reminded me of the woman she was when I first met her. She smiled away my concern and I was loath to ask her any questions beyond "Alec, are you okay?". I did not want to fight with her. I did not want to argue over Jillian Young. All I could do was let her know I was there for her if she needed to talk. I never once felt she would take me up on the offer.
I thought secrets were all that were between us when she lived in Los Angeles. She was open now, happy in a way I never thought she could be. I was beginning to understand that getting on with her life was more than accepting her past. Alec might have come to terms with her part in it, but she had yet to forgive Jillian for hers.
The patio was set for our supper by the time I arrived. Three steaks were already cooking on the grill and I stopped at the edge of the pool to look around. Huge spotlights and the pool cast the patio in a warm, greenish glow. I really did not want to be here. I wanted to be in my living room debating on whether or not to call Alec. I wanted to be eating the leftovers from our Saturday night Chinese take-out.
Rainer walked out to the grill and flipped the steaks. I was here and for him I would have a good time. For him I would forget that my weekend with Alec was ruined because of his wife.
"Vickie. Did you just get here?"
He was so happy to see me that I felt guilty for even thinking of not coming. He was always busy when I was growing up, but I never once felt neglected by him. I always knew I was important in his life. I would not make him feel that he was not important in mine.
"Just this second. And I'm starving. I haven't had one of your steaks in months." He was proud of his steaks. It was the only thing he could cook and his special marinade was still a secret.
He slipped his arm around my shoulders. "How are you honey? You were in such a hurry Friday. I wish you could have stayed. I feel like I've been gone for two years, not two months."
I lied about work keeping me busy and engagements with friends. I debated all day about telling them about Alec. Rainer never knew that I was living with Alec Chasen. He knows now that she and Kellen Brent are one and the same. He wanted to meet her, as his step?daughter. I was unsure how he would react if he knew Alec Chasen was the woman who tore out my heart two years ago. I was less sure how Jillian would react if she knew I was seeing her daughter. In the end I decided to tell them nothing.
Jillian joined us carrying a plate of drinks. "I'm glad you could come, Victoria. Rainer missed you terribly."
Both were dressed casually in blue jeans and Dodger T?shirts. I was used to seeing Rainer dressed so casually, but it caught me by surprise to see Jillian Young in blue jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. How could I not have seen that she and Alec are mirror images?
"And I missed him.@
We had baked potatoes and salads with the steaks. I listened as they shared the more humorous moments of their honeymoon. I always thought of Jillian Young as the Movie Star. Someone who was always gracious and elegant. I laughed as I tried to imagine her pushing a tuxedo clad Rainer into the ship's pool on one of their romantic midnight strolls. It was even harder to see her, in a sequined gown, jumping in after him.
When Rainer went to get dessert, she leaned over and touched my arm. Her green eyes were dark and serious as they looked into mine. "How is Alec?"
I hoped the look in my eyes was puzzlement and not the surprise I felt at her question. "What makes you think I know how Alec is?"
She frowned and leaned back in her chair. I got the feeling that she knew I was seeing Alec. She was not asking me if I heard from Alec, she was asking about Alec. She knew about us. "I know she comes here to see you on the weekends. She stays at your apartment. I want to know how she is. Is that too much to ask?"
Yes, frankly it was. I stood up and stared down on her coolly. Rainer walked out with a tray of apple pie slices. "Let's get one thing straight right now. I know Alec won't accept your calls and I doubt she would read a letter if you wrote it to her. I'm not going to pretend to know why. But don't think for one minute you're going to pump me for information on her. If you want to know about Alec talk to the sources you apparently already have. They should know as much as I do."
Jillian's cold voice stopped me before I left the patio. I turned and she was standing. "Do you know what it's like to have to ask other people about my daughter? Yes, I have someone who keeps me up?to?date on Alec. I know when she comes to Los Angeles. That's all I know. I want to know how she is, how she's coping. There is no else I can ask."
Once I might have felt for her obviously sincere plea. I walked back and faced her. I wanted her to be able to read my face as easily as I read hers. "Then I am sorry for you because I can't help you. I lost Alec once. I'm not going to lose her again just so you can assuage your guilt."
No one tried to stop me this time. Jillian did not say a word. Rainer set the tray on the table and went to her side. I felt his reproachful eyes on me as I left. If I had known she knew about Alec's visits, I would have been prepared. I would have expected her to try this and hopefully would have handled it much better. I was not prepared and I handled it horribly. She paled with each word. All I think was, how dare she ask me about Alec when she never cleaned up that bedroom? Alec hated her, did she really think I would spy on Alec for her?
My phone was ringing when I got home. I knew it was not Alec so I let it ring. My father's controlled voice asked that I call them when I came in. If I learned only one thing from living with Alec Chasen, it was a healthy disrespect for the answering machine. People could leave messages from now until God came, but that did not obligate me to return them. I turned off the phone and pushed down the volume on the machine.
"Because I can." Alec said she wanted to hurt Jillian because she could, but that was a lie. Alec wanted to hurt Jillian because Jillian hurt her first. Alec had a dozen reasons to shut me out of her life and yet, she came to Los Angeles. She said she loved me when she had no guarantee that I would love her in return. What did Jillian do to Alec? Where was Jillian when Brian was in their daughter's bedroom?
Alec said she was not betraying Jillian because Jillian betrayed her first. Who did Jillian betray? The child who was Kellen or the woman who was Alec?
~~~~
Alec called me Thursday night to say she was not coming for the weekend. Her voice was subdued and I knew something was going on with her. The only thought that kept me going was that Alec would be here Friday night. It never occurred to me that she might not come.
"Is this because Jillian's back?" I asked bluntly. I wanted to know now if her mother being back was going to be a problem for her, and us.
"Must every action of mine be related to her?"
I heard resignation in her quiet, tired voice. Was I jumping to conclusions? So she was distant over the weekend. So she was canceling a weekend for the first time in two months. So all of this just happens at the same time her mother returns to Los Angeles. It could be a coincidence. Yeah, right. An incredible billion to one coincidence.
"Of course not. I'll make it until next Friday somehow." I tried to make it sound light. I barely made it to this Friday, next Friday was seven eternities away.
"I don't know about next Friday either," she replied hesitantly. I should have been surprised and angry. Instead, her words only confirmed what I suspected. "I'll call when I know for sure."
"Alec, I love you," I said, but she had already hung up on her end. She was not coming and there was no explanation on why. She said it was not because of Jillian and I knew that she was lying. Alec's sudden mood change had everything to do with Jillian. Alec did not want Jillian in her life. I was afraid that meant the peripheral edges of mine as well.
If I thought calling her back would have done me any good, I would have called until she personally picked up the phone. I would have driven to Aubres if I thought I would get answers. The only answer I was sure I would get was that Alec was never coming back to Los Angeles as long as Jillian Young breathed the smoggy air. That was a long way go to learn what I already knew.
My father and Jillian, once, called all week. I was still ducking their calls. I was surprised that as each day passed without my returning the calls Rainer did not storm into my office. Ignoring problems was not my style and I was not sure what he would do if I did not contact him soon. I had little reason not to talk to them if Alec wasn't going to be here. Jillian could ask questions all day and I would not be able to answer them.
It was late enough that Rainer answered the phone. I could tell from his distracted tone that he was working. He was less than thrilled to be hearing from me.
"I'm sorry Dad. I've been busy." It was a lame excuse.
"Victoria, what is going on here?"
After my phone call from Alec, the last thing I needed was to hear the concern in his voice. Tears were threatening to fall and I did not want him to hear me cry. Was I asking too much? I wanted Alec and I wanted us to be happy. But every time I turned around, her past popped up and drove her farther away.
"Honey, Jillian told me that you were involved with her daughter a few years ago. Is Alec the woman you were living with?"
Alec did not want to meet Rainer. She never told me why, but now I think I know. She could not involve me in her life the way I wanted to involve her in mine. Alec was always fair. She never took from me what she could not give back. I did not understand and I was hurt, but I could never say Alec took advantage of what I offered.
"Yes."
"Is my marriage to Jillian causing you problems with Alec?"
I smiled. My father, the attorney. He was quick to get to the heart of my problems, especially if it was a problem of the heart. "Alec hates Jillian, Dad. I don't think I can have a relationship with her if I have one with Jillian."
"Victoria, can you have lunch with me tomorrow? I think there are a few things about Alec's childhood you need to know."
We rang off after agreeing to meet at his office. After his cryptic statement, I would have met him anywhere, anytime. I would have driven to Windchase that night if he had suggested it. I was not sure what he would know about Alec's childhood that I did not already know. But he did not seem surprised that Alec hated Jillian and I wanted to know why if nothing else.
~~~~
We did not go to a restaurant for lunch. He ordered in sandwiches and we ate in his office. He forced small talk until the food was delivered. We spread out our sandwiches at his conference table. I was filled with a dreaded excitement and picked at my chips.
His blue eyes met mine in gentle compassion. "We're in the same boat, you know. We love two people who have a very tragic past. What I am about to tell you was told to me in confidence and the only reason I am telling you is so that you can understand. You're not even to tell Alec you know any of this. Okay?"
I nodded, spellbound, but troubled by the implications of what I was about to hear. How could he know something about her past that Alec herself did not know?
"Brian Brent was a sadistic son of a bitch," he began. He ate his sandwich and told me about Jillian's fairy tale marriage, his voice sometimes bitter, sometimes condemning. Jillian married Brian when she was young and star struck. Her marriage to him opened doors that before weren't even cracking open. By the time she realized Brian Brent was not Prince Charming, she was pregnant with Kellen.
Brian hated the baby, but used her to keep Jillian. Patrick went so far as to have divorce papers drawn up for her. She was poised to sign the papers when Patrick asked if she had kissed Kellen good?bye. Did she really think he would let her take away his only grandchild? The truth was a crushing blow to Jillian. If she wanted to leave, she would have to leave Kellen with Brian.
"Brian hated Kellen, Victoria. I didn't press Jillian for details, but I know Brian hurt the child. And I think, Jillian. Jillian thought Kellen was young enough to forget the abuse. She learned right before the wedding that Kellen remembers too much."
In my mind, I saw Jillian again that first day I met her. Alec had been there and whatever was said almost destroyed Jillian. I could still see her face twisted in anguish, her shattered green eyes. Why was Alec at Windchase that day? Why were they talking about Brian Brent?
"Victoria, we can't chose sides over this. I love Jillian and you love Alec. But remember, I am your father and Jillian is Alec's mother. We are a family."
We are a family. It was a nice sentiment, but the reality was that one member of this family felt betrayed by another member. Alec was not going to leap at an opportunity to be a member of another family that included Jillian Young.
6.
Thanksgiving and Christmas are the only two holidays my dad and I celebrate. Alec never liked to acknowledge the holidays and Christmas was especially hard for her. I know why now, but that does not erase the scenes I made. Alec canceled two more weekends without explanation. I accepted Jillian's invitation to spend both holidays with them because of this. Did I really think she would come for Christmas in Los Angeles?
I was beginning to think I would have to go to Aubres if I was ever going to see her again. Alec could drive a few miles to the airport and hop on a plane. The whole trip from her house to my condo took about three and a half hours. I do not fly so the drive took me at least six hours and that was driving like a bat out of hell. After the holidays would be a good time to go. Alec could not accuse me of trying to celebrate with her.
The decision of when I would see Alec again made, I threw myself into the shopping spirit. Los Angeles is a great town for gift buying. I can find anything for anybody and sometimes at a reasonable price. I saw several items I would have loved to buy Alec. One of these was a blue?gray fisherman's sweater for those cold days on her pier.
Rainer was easy. A new Waterman to add to his collection, several shirts and a few books by his favorite authors Jillian was hard. What do you give a reclusive actress who only wanted her daughter back?
"Dad, what would Jillian want for Christmas?" I asked him, when I could come up with nothing on my own. I thought briefly about buying one of Alec's new paintings and wrapping that for her. Somehow, that seemed like a slap in the face. Jillian bought Alec's paintings, but for me to give her one seemed a sarcastic gesture.
Rainer sighed in irritation. "Nothing. I understand that Christmas holds tragic memories for her, but now is the time to make new, happy ones. She's becoming withdrawn. Frankly, I think we should go away."
"Where would you go?" The thought of being alone on Christmas was horrible.
"I was thinking Moregrove House. If I could make the arrangements, would you come with us? Cordelia is a wonderful woman."
I already knew Cordelia Chasen was a wonderful woman. She would have to be to get Alec through her childhood. "I don't know Dad."
How would Alec feel if I went to Moregrove House? I would see her room, see pictures of her as a child. I could not say why, but I knew Alec would not want me there. Nor would she want Jillian there.
"Well, think about it. I'll broach the subject with Jillian tonight."
Christmas in England. I would rather spend it in Aubres.
~~~~
Alec called that Thursday night. "Got plans this weekend?"
I was confused by her greeting until I realized that it meant, please God let it be, that I would be at LAX on Friday. "No. Why? Do I now?"
She caught the angry thread underlying the eagerness in my voice. I wanted her to come and I was mad that I was so easy. Three weeks without a weekend together, three weeks without a explanation and I past was caring. I wanted her to come if it was only for one day.
"Tory, don't be angry with me. I've got presents to put under your tree."
Presents? As in Christmas presents? Okay, now I had proof that Alec Chasen was really dead and her body had been taken over by an alien. Alec did not give presents and she certainly did not expect them. "I don't understand."
"Christmas, Tory. You do have a tree up don't you? It's a week before Thanksgiving. Isn't that about when you always wanted to throw up a tree?" She sounded almost excited about the holidays.
"I was going to do it next weekend. I usually wait until after Thanksgiving."
"That's great. I can help. I've never decorated a tree."
When the call ended, I was confused and excited at the same time. Was I imagining it, or was Alec planning to celebrate Christmas with me? I had to be making more of the "presents" than Alec actually meant. She was bringing gifts for me to open alone on Christmas morning. She would be in Aubres, doing whatever she did to block out that last Christmas with Jillian and Brian.
I dialed Windchase, but hung up before anyone answered. I did not want to cancel my plans with them until I knew I had plans with Alec. I was placing too much importance on a few presents. A few presents did not mean Alec was moving back to Los Angeles, was forgiving her mother and she and I would live happily ever after.
~~~~
Alec walked down the corridor. She carried an overnight bag. Her smile was bright, her eyes that beautiful happy silver. I was shocked that her very short hair touched the bottom of her shirt collar and covered her ears. She was letting her hair grow out. I did not think it wise to tell her it emphasized her resemblance to Jillian.
"I love you," she whispered as we hugged. She said that so freely now. Every phone call and every goodnight ended with that wonderful phrase.
I stepped out of her embrace to find a young man in an airline uniform studiously ignoring us. "Ms. Chasen, if you're ready?"
She nodded and we fell in step behind him. He stayed a few feet in front of us. "I brought a crate with me. I told them I was Alec Chasen, the painter, and I was bringing a crate of paintings with me. They've arranged for us to pick it up in a holding area or something. Wasn't that nice of them?"
I barely stifled the giggles I felt rising at her bland expression. Alec Chasen did not like to be recognized. She was uncomfortable in situations where she was The Painter and ceased to be a real person. Now, she was using the advantages that being Alec Chasen gave her.
"It was unbelievable Tory. All I had to do was sign a dozen cocktail napkins and I got to see the cockpit. I think if I let them say, 'We're so safe Alec Chasen flies her paintings with us', they would make me a pilot." The ironic tone in her voice made me smile. She would use her name, but was not buying into the hype that it made her special.
The next half hour was a lesson in privileges. Tim, the co?pilot on Alec's flight, drove my car through DO NOT ENTER gates of Los Angeles International Airport. Alec's crate was waiting outside an open hangar with three official looking men standing guard. Two were airport security because these were, after all, Chasen paintings. The other man introduced himself as Peter Aldridge, a USAir executive.
"Mr. Aldridge, thank you for being so helpful."
Peter Aldridge supervised the loading of the crate into my back seat. He gave Alec his card and told her to call him personally if she ever again needed assistance from his airline. Alec thanked him, the security guards, and the co?pilot.
She laid her head against the head rest and smiled. "I'd feel rather guilty if there really wasn't a painting in there. All that trouble for Christmas presents. Can you believe I only talked to someone at their reservation desk? I didn't know they were going to do all that."
We had to laugh. They were so serious, standing guard over presents until Alec was driven, by no less than the co?pilot, to the hangar. They really believed the crate held irreplaceable paintings. The only real thing about the entire farce were the autographs Alec signed for the crew.
Alec wasn't hungry? "They force-fed me on the plane"? so we went directly to my condo. The crate was heavy enough to actually be full of Chasen paintings. We struggled to bring it into the condo while I silently thanked God I lived on the ground floor. We set it down a few inches inside the door, just enough to shut it behind us.
"How many presents do you have in threw?" I panted. I dropped onto the couch.
Alec kicked off her shoes and slipped out of her blazer. She went into the kitchen. I heard her rummaging through drawers and she came back with a hammer. She used the clawed end to pry off the lid of the crate. "Several. It's the painting that's so heavy."
I watched with interest as she took gaily wrapped boxes out and placed them on the floor. Seven boxes were stacked at her feet when she asked me to help lift out the painting. It was covered with a heavy canvas drop cloth. We leaned it against the wall at the end of the couch. It would be out of harm's way for the holiday duration.
She looked at me with guarded eyes. "The presents are marked. Two are for your father and the rest are for you. The painting is for Jill."
"Jill?" I repeated dumbly. She was giving a present to her mother?
She nodded and turned away from me. "Please don't make a big deal out of this. I just thought I should give her a gift since I'm giving some to Rainer. You did say she owned some of my paintings."
I was more curious about the painting than I was about the packages that had my name on them. I walked over to the painting and tried to pull back the drop cloth.
"It's stapled. You'll see it when Jill opens it."
I did not trust her. What if it was a Trojan horse? I could imagine many scenes Alec could paint that would hurt her mother. She had several scenes from which to choose. Maybe I could open it after Alec left. If it was a crumpled body in a child's bedroom, I could buy something else and claim it was from Alec. Who would ever know? It's not like Jillian would ever be able to thank Alec. The chances were slim that she would receive a call Christmas morning.
"Don't worry Tory. It's nothing bad," Alec said, as if reading my mind.
~~~~
Alec was quiet and distant. She stared off into space and sighed, as if a major decision was weighing heavily on her mind. I wanted desperately for her to talk to me. Tell me Alec, I willed. Tell me and we'll share whatever it is. You do not have to go through anything else alone. But it was the only way Alec knew to do things. It was probably the only thing she would never be able to change about herself.
"Are you coming back for Thanksgiving? I need to know because my Dad and Jillian have asked me to Windchase."
She looked very tired curled at the end of my couch. "No. I only get two days off from school."
The two days she got off were Thursday and Friday in addition to the Saturday and Sunday that followed. She could come for two days, but four was too much? It was this kind of logic that irritated me. It was senseless, God only knew why I even tried to follow it.
She must have sensed by annoyance. "I'm trying Tory. Why isn't what I've done enough? What more do you want?"
I wanted Alec in my life every day and every night, but I was apparently the only one who wanted that. Alec was happy with her life in Aubres and her part?time lover in Los Angeles. She could come and go whenever she liked and I had no control. I dropped my plans if she was coming and made plans if she canceled. I waited eagerly for the weekend. I dreaded every phone call on Thursdays. I wanted Alec to call and say she was coming. I knew she was calling tell me no. By the time she did call, my nerves were raw. What more could I want? Oh, the list I could make.
"Fine, I'll spend Thanksgiving with my father and your mother." If she heard the sarcasm in my voice, it left no impression. I was not going to harass her anymore about it so it did not matter. I wish my life was that easy.
"I'm sure you'll have a good time," she said softly and slipped from the couch. When I went in search of her half an hour later, she was asleep on my bed. She had bruises under her eyes, as if she had not slept in a while.
I thought back to last night. We made love and the last time I remembered seeing was two?twenty. Alec was still awake. She woke me with breakfast in bed. If she slept, it was not for very long. She was painting again. What did it mean that she was painting again? She was not painting when I went to Aubres. She was at peace with her life. Now, she was restless and tense. She was losing weight. She laughed when I asked her about that last night and kissed me into silence. While caressing her back, I felt her ribs under my hands.
She was beautiful. Dark lashes soft against pale cheeks. How did I miss it? I had convinced myself that this Alec was so different. I wanted to believe that the tormented woman was gone, replaced by this confident strong woman I was coming to know. I thought it was over for her. But painting was therapy for Alec. Brushing oil across a canvas was how she coped, the only way she knew to deal with her life. What was she coping with now? What demons did I stir up for her?
I shut the door behind me and I went into the living room. I would deal with Alec's anger later, but I had to know what she had painted for Jillian. Did she paint it specifically for her mother? Or did she choose an already finished painting because she did not know what else to give someone who was a stranger? I pried the staples from the wood frame and pulled the drop cloth away.
I shut my eyes. Oh Alec. At that moment in time, I would have given anything, done anything, to take away Alec's memories.
A young child was playing alone on a beach. Alec's photographic signature was evident in each strand of blonde hair, the cotton fabric of her blue overalls, the grains of golden sand on the tanned bare feet. The background of sun warmed beach and Pacific blue were blurred. The young girl was the focus of this painting and I did not have to crawl inside Alec's mind to know this child. Her name was Kellen.
I put the staples back into the frame. Alec did not let on if she knew I peeked. She slept until Sunday morning. We spent Sunday in a silence she did not try to break.
I watched her and saw all the things I had been too blind to notice. She was not letting her hair grow out. I could tell by the ragged ends she had forgotten to cut it. She lied about eating on the plane. Airlines do not routinely serve food on a less than two hour flight. The breakfast she made for me on Saturday did not include a plate for her. I believed her when she said she ate while she cooked it. I believed her again later when she said must have eaten more than she thought for breakfast. She went to sleep around lunch time and slept restlessly through the night. If she ate anything all weekend, it was not with me.
I let her out in the passenger zone. I usually went with her to the concourse, but could not bring myself to do it this time. I would have to watch her walk away from me. I would have to see the shaggy hair and the baggy clothes. I would have to see her dark eyes struggling with a past she had never before faced. It was a journey I could not take with her. And I could not bear to watch her walk it alone.
She normally called when she got home so that I would know she was all right. I went to a movie and treated myself to a late dinner at a quiet, deserted restaurant. By the time I got back home, it was after midnight. The answering machine blinked a solitary message. I erased it without listening.
Alec was not all right. I refused to hear her tell the lie in her soft, empty voice.
7.
Thanksgiving day arrived without Alec. I debated about what to wear to Windchase and decided to wear slacks and dress shirt. My dad and I had a routine that did not fit the glamorous image I had of Jillian. We usually went to a restaurant for a traditional meal and spent the rest of the day watching football games. We wore blue jeans, our favorite team's sweatshirt, and tennis shoes.
Jillian and I had talked on the phone since our confrontation over Alec, but this would be our first face to face meeting. We were both cordial and I believed my father told her of our conversation. I was unsure of my own feelings for her. It was hard to dislike her when I saw her as one of Brian's victims. Both were hurt by Brian, both were living with his memory. I was unfair to think Alec was hurt more by Brian than Jillian. How could I measure one blow against another? Because Alec was a child? In the end, Alec was the one who stopped the abuse.
I rang the doorbell promptly at eleven?thirty. I was glad I dressed up when Jillian answered the door. A cheery red apron covered her black slacks and white shirt.
"You don't have to ring the bell, Victoria. Just come in," she admonished with a smile.
I followed her into a large gourmet's kitchen. Wonderful aromas filled the air. Home cooked food was a definite improvement over our restaurant routine. A golden baked turkey was being carved by Rainer, sharply dressed in dress slacks and shirt. Jillian walked to the stove and stirred a bubbling pot.
"Happy Turkey Day," my father greeted cheerfully. I kissed his cheek and stole a tiny piece of turkey.
I wanted to start off on the right foot with Jillian. If she had been anything other than the mother Alec hated, I think we would have been friends. I walked over to her side. "You know, every time I see you, you blow another image I have of you. Last time you wore blue jeans and now you're cooking. I'm going to start thinking of you as a normal person soon."
She laughed, sounding very much like Alec. "Good. That's exactly how you should think of me."
"How can I help?" I asked, no one in particular.
Jillian pointed to a stack of plates and silverware. "Will you set the table? As soon as Rainer has the turkey carved, we can eat. I'm under strict orders to be finished by twelve?thirty. Something about football games."
By twelve?thirty, Jillian and I were clearing the table. Rainer went off to change into some comfortable clothes.
Jillian tried to wave me away. "I can take care this. Your Dad wants you to watch the game with him."
I knew he did and I would after I helped her. She consented reluctantly and we quickly had the leftovers in containers. When I was rinsing dishes and handing them to her to put in the dishwasher, I got up the courage to tell her something I wanted her to know.
"Alec was here last weekend," I said, trying to be casual. She paused, but that was the only sign that my words had affected her.
She kept her face averted. Her tone was as carefully casual as mine. "I know."
I wondered, not for the first time, just who the source was that informed her of Alec's arrivals. Somebody very close to Alec was a Judas. "She brought some Christmas presents with her. There's one for you."
She did not respond and I wanted desperately to see the expression on her face. I continued to rinse dishes and she continued to place them in the dishwasher.
"Why are you telling me this?" Her voice was strained, the studied casualness gone.
"I didn't want it to be a shock or you," I replied honestly.
We finished loading the dishwasher and swiped the counters in silence. Finally, this was nothing left but to look at each other. She was pale and her eyes a dark, fearful green.
"Do you know what it is?" she asked.
I was expecting this question and was able to lie with a straight face. "I know it's a painting. She said it wasn't anything bad."
The tension did not leave her face. "If I gave her a present, do you think she would open it?"
The question tugged at my heart strings. A small flame of hope was lit by my revelation. She waited with bated breath for my answer and as I paused, I saw her bracing for the pain my answer could bring.
I smiled. "I think she would."
She nodded quickly and left the kitchen. I found my father in the den comfortably watching the kick?off of one of the games. He grinned at me and patted the couch next to him.
"You should have brought some jeans, kid," he teased.
We watched a few plays, but I really did not know who was playing. A receiver broke away and ran down the sidelines with Rainer yelling for the other team to stop him.
I waited until the extra point kick was good before breaking into his game day enthusiasm. "Alec brought some presents last weekend. She has some for you. She brought Jillian a painting."
His head snapped around and he stared at me as if I had just said football was the stupidest game on the face of the earth. "Did you tell Jillian?"
I nodded. Presents are suppose to be surprises, but I did not want to kill Jillian. "She wants to give Alec a gift."
"Is that a good idea?"
"I think so. Something is happening with Alec and I'm not really sure what it is. But if she's giving Jillian a present, I think it's a good sign." I hoped it was a good sign.
Jillian joined us an hour later. I nonchalantly smiled at her and made room for her beside my father while checking her face for signs of tears. She had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt so big it had to be Rainer's.
"Who's winning?"
Rainer was grumpy as he told her his team was losing by two touchdowns. He left to get dessert when his team kicked a field goal. What was Alec doing today? Here I was enjoying a warm family event while Alec was alone. Of course, it was her choice to be alone. Jillian would have gladly, cheerfully set another place for her. She could be here with us, stuffed and watching football.
Rainer came back with his plate loaded with pumpkin pie and bread pudding. Jillian teased him and as I listened to their gentle banter, I desperately wanted to be with Alec. I understood why she could not come here. I was uncomfortable myself and these memories were not my own. But if I could have chosen the family members with which to share this day, I would have chosen Alec.
I glanced at the clock. It was three. If I hurried, if I could pack in fifteen minutes, I could be in Aubres before Alec was in bed. The day would almost be over, but who cared? I wanted to be with Alec. I did not really care if the parades would all be over and the games would all be won. I did not want to be with Alec just because it was Thanksgiving.
Getting away from Rainer and Jillian proved much easier than I anticipated. I yawned, stretched and said I was tired. Ten minutes later I was walking out the front door with my keys in my hand and mentally packing my suitcase. It wasn't even a lie; I was tired of being without Alec.
The traffic leaving Los Angeles was fast moving and the city was soon a welcome sight in my rearview mirror. I slipped a Reba McEntire CD into the compact disc player and happily sang off key with the songs.
It never occurred to me on the long drive that Alec would not be happy to see me. When she came to Los Angeles, we got along better than we ever did. Yes, her past caused a few problems, but we were dealing with them rather than brushing them away. We were talking, honestly trying to build a future together. Weren't we?
Cresting the hill was a homecoming for me. The doubts I had about Alec and Jillian that plagued me in Los Angeles vanished under a black, starless sky and fine mist. I drove down Main Street and made a conscious effort to not speed in the slow paced town. I was eager to get to the beach house.
This time Alec was not standing on the end of the pier as if waiting for me. Her Jag was parked in the same spot and light poured from the wall of sliding glass doors. I hurried down the sand dune. Fat rain drops starting falling as soon as I hit the deck. I banged on the door and startled Alec almost as much as she startled me. She popped up from the couch. The surprised look on her face did not change to happy delight when she saw my bedraggled self on her deck. I got wetter and wetter as she stared at me from her warm, dry couch.
Finally, she laid a sheaf of papers on the table and came to open the door.
"Stay," she ordered. I stayed. A fire was burning in the fireplace and I was grateful for the warmth. She came back with a couple of towels from the laundry room. "Here. Dry off."
I stammered a thank you and began to dry my head. Alec briskly rubbed the other towel over me. When I was no longer dripping, Alec took the towels and tossed them into the laundry room.
"What's wrong?" she asked in a resigned tone. Gray eyes were dark in annoyance.
"Nothing's wrong. Why?"
Alec did not answer. She frowned and saw that I was shivering despite the warm room. She sighed and motioned for me to follow her. "Why is it that you get drenched every time you visit?"
I followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom. Since this was only my second visit, she really could not say that every time I visited I got drenched. Was it my fault that it rained here all the time? Was it my fault she left me standing on the deck in a downpour? I said none of this because the hot water in the shower was too inviting. I hurried out of my wet clothes and into the steamy cubicle.
Now, if she had hot food and hot coffee when I got out, I was ready to marry her tonight.
~~~~
Her bedroom was empty when I reluctantly left the shower. I found a small pile of neatly folded clothing on the bed. I sat on the bed and pulled on the T?shirt, jogging pants, and socks slowly. Downstairs in her kitchen, Alec was heating up food. My disappointment at her less than enthusiastic greeting faded in the face of her concern.
"Better?" she asked as I walked down the stairs. The living room was clean of the papers that had covered the couch, table, and floor.
I nodded and sat across from her. This routine felt dearly familiar. I should have come before, when Alec was canceling our weekends. If Mohammed won't go to the mountain. "Yes, thank you. What's that?"
"Vegetable soup. I don't have any Thanksgiving food."
Now that I was warm and dry and soon to be fed, I stared at her critically. Her hair was past her collar now and she had acquired a new habit of brushing her bangs away from her eyes. She was thinner under the baggy cotton pants and T?shirt. Shadowed gray eyes met my stare.
"What?" she asked, irritation creeping in her voice.
"I thought you would be happy to see me." I did not try to hide the hurt in my voice. I was happy to be here. Why wasn't she happy to have me here?
She poured the soup in a bowl and handed me a half eaten pack of saltines. She asked what I wanted to drink and I choose hot tea from my limited choices.
"I am happy to see you, Tory, but I told you I was busy," she said when the water was warming for our tea. She dropped a tea bag into two mugs.
"Were you grading papers?" I asked. I was curious about the disappearing papers.
"No." She poured boiling water over the tea bags. I wanted in vain for an explanation. She spooned sugar into her tea and took the mug into the living room. I turned on the barstool. While I took a shower, she had replaced the papers with a book and an afghan. She laid on the couch and opened the book to a bookmark. Was I suppose to believe she was reading when I arrived?
I ate my soup and reminded myself that Alec was Alec and I could not ask a dozen questions. So what if she was reading now. Whatever she was doing before I arrived did not concern me and was not worth risking a fight. Besides, it was storming outside and I did not want to be tossed out in it. When I was finished, I washed up my dishes and went to sit by the fire.
It was eleven thirty. Twelve hours earlier I stood on the doorstep of Windchase, clueless as to where I would be laying my head this night. Since I was not guaranteed to be sharing her bed, I still did not where I was laying my head.
"You look tired, Tory."
Suddenly, I was very tired. I wanted nothing more than to lay on her soft bed with my head on her shoulder. I nodded. "I am. It's been a fun filled day."
She stood up and dropped her book to the coffee table. She held her hand out to me. "I'm tired, too. Can you wait until tomorrow for your suitcase?"
I walked into her embrace and received the welcome I thought I would get when I arrived. She cupped the back of my neck with her hand, pulling me close for a long, soft kiss. "I am happy you're here."
I crawled on her bed. I barely remember Alec slipping under the covers with me. My last coherent thought was that her body felt perfect, her lips warm against my forehead.
~~~~
Alec Chasen did not paint anymore because it never stopped raining in Aubres. Friday was as wet and gray as it had promised to be last night. I found Alec downstairs curled on the couch, reading. She smiled when she saw me and I took it as a sign that she was happy I was here.
"I was beginning to think you would sleep the day away," she teased. I knelt beside her on the floor and leaned over to kiss her.
"I sleep so much better when I sleep with you," I revealed boldly. It was comforting to fall asleep with her heart beating steadily under me.
She ran her fingers through my hair. "So do I. I like waking up better, too."
"What's for breakfast?" I asked the important questions first.
"I need to go shopping. We can have lunch in town and then shop. Okay?"
Lunch? I glanced at the clock and was surprised that it was indeed lunch time. I have never slept past eleven in my life, until today. Alec had brought in my suitcase and left it by the foot of the stairs. She was already dressed for the trip in blue jeans and sweater. I changed into a pair of jeans and borrowed a down?filled jacket from her to wear over my T?shirt.
"I'll be outside warming up the car," she called as I changed.
Aubres was a much colder than it was during my last visit. Alec did not live high enough up for snow, but she did get colder weather than I was use to in LA.
She parked the Jag on a side street. We went to an unnamed restaurant located conveniently next to a Stop-n-Shop grocery store. The restaurant was deserted and a lone waitress was standing behind the counter reading a book. She glanced up at us, saw her customer, and broke into a wide smile.
"Hey Alec. Didn't expect to see you today, with the school closed and all." She grabbed two plastic covered menus and came over to our booth.
Alec grinned up at the woman. "I have an unexpected guest and no food at the house. Miranda, this is Victoria, my friend in Los Angeles. Miranda owns this place, but likes for people to think she works here."
Miranda was probably younger than she looked with frizzy red hair and lively brown eyes. She smiled at me as she handed me a menu. "Get better tips that way."
Alec did not look at her menu as she ordered a grilled chicken sandwich, potato salad, and a glass of tea. After a quick glance over the menu, I ordered the same. Miranda's lunch menu was limited to a hamburger, grilled chicken or ham sandwich. I had a choice of French fries, slaw or potato salad.
Alec smiled apologetically at me after Miranda left to make our orders. "There's not much selection here, I know, but the food is really good."
A few more patrons wandered in as we waited. Alec was greeted by name and in turn greeted each new arrival by name. Soon a group of men were seated at table not far from us. They all wore dirty jeans and heavy plaid shirts. Alec was included in their rambling conversation of football and kids. She grinned at me with a shrug when she agreed with Ed that San Francisco had a team that could go all the way.
Alec ate her lunch in serene bliss. She joined in the conversations flowing around her as if she truly belonged in this small town restaurant with loggers, truck drivers and housewives. She joked about the football games yesterday and politely listened as the mother of one of her student's complained about paint stains on his jeans. I ate my lunch in fascinated silence.
Good?byes chorused as she paid our bill and we left.
I followed Alec next door to the Stop-n-Shop. Maybe she did belong in this small town with these people who treated her like a friend. I did not need to know all of Alec's past to know what their acceptance meant to her. It had to be one of the reasons she donated her time to teach art at the school. They would never be able to afford a full?time art teacher, much less Alec Chasen. She could give them something in return for what they were giving her.
"How long are you staying?" she asked me after we had a shopping cart and were walking down an aisle.
"I have to leave Sunday."
"I won't have to get much then," she replied.
I walked behind her as she selected the food for some mental menu she was planning. I stared at her loose jeans and remembered her comment about not having food in the house. Why was she only buying enough food for a few days if she did not have food in the house?
"Alec, aren't you going to need more food after I leave?"
She was staring with a preoccupied frown at the row of canned goods. She walked down the aisle and slowly read the labels. "I'm going back to Los Angeles with you. I was planning on flying in Monday. I didn't want food to spoil while I was gone. I'll be there all week."
I felt very foolish as I watched her walk back with a few cans. She was coming to Los Angeles Monday. If I had only waited. The words "if only" could sum up our relationship. "What about school?"
"The kids are preparing for state wide tests. The teachers are going to use my time to tutor some of the kids who are behind."
I followed her to the frozen food section. Two women were sharing a recipe over the vegetables. I stood back by our cart and watched as the same thing that had happened in the restaurant happened here. Alec was accepted into their little group. They exchanged cheek kisses and quick hugs. Soon they were talking about Thanksgiving. Alec lied about how she had spent the holiday. Both women extended a Christmas invitation to her, probably had invited her to their homes for Thanksgiving. For whatever reason, Alec chose to spend the day completely alone.
Alec paid for the food. A young high school boy eagerly pushed the cart to the car. I thought his excited expression was for Alec until we got to the Jag. He ran a reverent hand over the dark glossy finish. Alec thanked him and gave him a generous tip.
"Miss Chasen, I'm gonna miss class next week. Too bad the kids who don't need no help can't come."
"I'm going to miss you guys, too," she told him and he flushed in pleased embarrassment.
A light rain was falling when Alec parked the Jag next to my Cherokee. All the touching scenes crossed my mind as we carried the bags into the house. Alec was familiar with these people, knew who belonged to who, knew the parents of her students. Alec had made herself more at home in the last two years in Aubres than she had ever been at home in Los Angeles. She had a few friends in Los Angeles and a mother, but here she seemed to know everybody. And everybody seemed to know her.
"Do these people know who you are?" I asked when the last bag was on the counter.
Alec paused in emptying a bag. She stared into the bag as she asked, "Who am I?"
"Alec Chasen."
She took the rest of the food out of her bag and turned to face me, one hip propped against the cabinet. "They know my name."
I knew the look in her eyes all too well. Alec was getting angry. I watched as the gray became the color of the clouds looming over the water. "Do they know who that is?"
When I knew she was getting angry, why didn't I just let it go? Did it matter if the citizens of Aubres knew that the woman who gave their kids art lessons was paid thousands of dollars for her own work? If they knew they seemed quite happy with the arrangement.
"What is it that you think they should know?" Her tone was frosty.
Our eyes met and I knew that whatever I could say would only make this conversation worse. So I shrugged and reached into a bag. I transferred cans and boxes to the counter under her watchful gaze. She stared at me for several uncomfortable minutes before turning back to her own bag.
"You know, Victoria, that's probably the thing I liked least about you. You never liked the Chasen Originals, but you did like being Alec Chasen's girlfriend. You were so impressed with yourself."
She was furious now. She marched around the kitchen slamming cabinets and throwing food into the refrigerator. I moved out of the small space and ended up standing in the doorway of the laundry room.
"What do you think, Victoria? You saw them, saw how they interacted with me. Do they know I'm Alec Chasen, the painter?"
"No," I answered immediately.
She smiled at me. Her soft voice was mocking as she said, "What gave them away? They didn't fawn over me, their tone was reverent enough when they said 'Hey Alec'. What exactly was it that hinted at their stupidity?"
Her smiled dropped away at the end of her tirade.
"Have they always known who you really are?" I asked. I was right, it didn't matter if these people knew she was a well?known painter.
"Who I really am? I never said they know who I am really am. But yes, they've known who Alec Chasen is from the beginning."
She started a pot of coffee and while waiting for it to perk, she assembled the ingredients for dinner. She avoided meeting my gaze. Was that all she thought I saw in her? Few people knew my girlfriend was Alec Chasen and she was right, I never really liked her paintings. I liked her.
"Alec, I liked you when you were nothing more than a bitter alcoholic who painted. I saw a sad, lonely young woman running from something I probably still don't understand. I put up with your attitude and your sarcasm because I love you. But don't ever delude yourself into thinking I stayed simply because you are Alec Chasen."
I was tired of apologizing all the time. Yes, I had made bad assumptions and yes, I let my curiosity get out of control. However, I was not a gold digging bitch and she was not going to cast me in that role.
I walked to the other side of the bar. "And I didn't come back because you're Kellen Brent."
Of course it was raining. That's all it ever did in Aubres. I stared around the house and was heading for her office when she caught me by the arm. I turned and our eyes met. This was the first time Alec came after me.
"Go to my bedroom if you want to be alone. I have work to do in my office," she said flatly.
She dropped my arm and walked back to the kitchen. So much for Alec coming after me. All she cared about was that I pout some place more convenient for her. She poured a mug of coffee, went to her office, and shut the door without once glancing my way. I drove all this way for this?
Well, I did not have to put up with this and especially not from her. First, she let me get soaked in a freezing downpour and then she was not as happy to see me as I was to see her. So I wanted to know if the kind people of Aubres knew their reclusive neighbor was the Alec Chasen. That was not a criminal offense in any state and she was not going to persecute me for it. Coming to Los Angeles Monday? Better call for reservations, Alec, because you're not staying with me and you won't stay with your mother.
I was going to her bedroom all right. I was going to her bedroom to pack my clothes.
Why were we all catering to her whims? Yes, Alec Chasen's childhood was tragic. I would even go so far as to say it was more tragic than most. However, she had survived it so it was not as tragic as some. I was not one of the people who hurt her and I was damned tired of being treated as if I shared the same ranking as Jillian. I was sorry for her, but not enough to continue to pay for crimes that others committed.
I knocked sharply on her office door. Minutes crept by in the silent house. My righteous anger turned to annoyance and as the three minutes became five, I became alarmed. I tried to turn the handle and finding that it was locked, I pounded on the door.
"Alec, open the door," I demanded.
The door flew open and, still holding the handle, I was yanked into Alec. Startled gray eyes stared into mine as we tumbled to the floor. As I fell, I got a glimpse of words on the computer screen and the vanishing stacks of paper.
"What's wrong Tory?" she asked with none of her former anger. Concern was written all over her face.
She untangled our arms and legs and we sat facing each other on her office floor. She laid her hand on my cheek. "Are you all right?"
All the disappointment of this trip burst out. "No, I'm not all right. You don't want me here. You think all I care about is that you're Alec Chasen. What are we playing at here Alec?"
Tears were falling down my face and I impatiently brushed them away. Alec stared at me with impassive dark eyes. This was just great. I wanted to be the one to walk away this time and instead, she was going to ask me to leave.
"No, I didn't want you here. Not right now. I have an important deadline Monday. I want to spend the Christmas holiday with you, but to do that, I must finish this weekend. Besides, I knew I would be with you all week. Tory, I love you."
She got up and walked back to the computer. I leaned against the bookshelf and watched as she saved her work and turned off the computer. She came back and held out her hand. We went to the kitchen. I sat at the breakfast bar and Alec went into the kitchen to begin supper preparations.
"I know you want more Tory. I do, too. I want us to be together again, but better this time. I don't have to hide who I am anymore or what my life is about. I am not playing at anything here. You are the most important person in my life. I do not take that lightly. I want the same things here that you do, Tory, I promise I do. But I simply cannot give it to you right now."
She would not meet my eyes. She kept her eyes firmly on the clear, herb marinade she was preparing. Her voice was soft as she bared her soul. I could have asked about the deadline. I could have cried for her honesty. I could have got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. The first would have broken this fragile thread and the last two would have embarrassed Alec.
"What's for supper?" I asked. Startled, relieved gray eyes flew to my face. I was going to let this pass without comment or question and she was happy. I loved her and I wanted her to be happy.
She grinned. "Roasted chicken."
I curled up on her bed and read while she typed away in her office. I was not as curious about what she was doing as I would have been this morning. All I cared about was that if I left her alone to finish it, I could have her for the Christmas holiday. She clarified what that meant exactly over supper. The Christmas holiday meant she would be flying in on December 16 and would not leave until January 3. Almost three weeks of Alec, in Los Angeles, in my condo, in my bed. For that, I was willing to do anything and not ask a single question about it.
We were going to drive back to Los Angeles after Sunday lunch. She had meetings Monday, but she was mine from Tuesday until I put her on the plane Sunday night. I would not see her again until I picked her up the sixteenth. I could go two weeks without seeing her. It was easy when I knew she was coming back.
This was the first time in our relationship I did not ask her questions. Ironically, it was the only time I really needed to know what was happening. Ignorance may be bliss, but I certainly would have preferred to be forewarned about the media fusillade about to blow our lives apart.
8.
Elane's red Mercedes was parked in front of my condo when we drove up Sunday evening. In my mind, I saw again that red Mercedes that nearly ran me down the day I met Jillian. Alec must borrow Elane's car when she visited. Of course, loaning her precious convertible was small payment for the amount of money Alec brought into Rasche Galleries. Elane's commission off the Chasen's alone could have paid for several red Mercedes'.
"Where do you think she left the keys?" I asked Alec.
"I have my own set," Alec replied.
Elane gave Alec a set of keys to her Mercedes? That was incredible. The car was Elane's baby, but then like me, the Mercedes could be replaced and Alec Chasen could not.
My answering machine was blinking. I listened through the half dozen messages while Alec took our suitcases into the bedroom. Three of the messages were from my dad. They called for me to come to dinner Saturday and his last message was a simple "Where the hell are you?" and an angry click. Elane left a message for Alec to call her when we arrived.
I went into the bedroom as the other two messages played. A few more pieces fell in place for me. "Alec, how is Elane related to you?"
She did not pause in removing her clothes from her suitcase. "She's my cousin."
Elane was the Judas spy, the secret source that kept Jillian Young informed of her daughter's visits to Los Angeles. I was furious with Elane for such a blatant betrayal. If Elane knew the Brent secrets, she would know Alec detested Jillian. How could she tell Jillian everything detail about Alec's life?
"Brent or Young?"
Alec turned to me with a quizzical expression on her face. "Brian was an only child."
Elane's aunt was Jillian Young. When we shared life stories, she forgot to mention that little detail. She could have told me when I told her that Rainer was marrying Jillian. "Why wasn't she at the wedding?"
"Why should I know? Jill and I did not discuss the guest list."
Alec emptied one of my drawers and filled it with her clothes. I sat on the bed and no longer cared why Elane skipped the wedding or that she betrayed Alec. I watched her put her clothes in my drawer and pretended that it was forever and not just the week. Alec wanted to live with me and it would be paradise when and if that happened. I would even get a bigger place by the ocean.
She sat on the bed. "Honey, I'm tired. Would you mind if I went to bed early?"
Dark circles ringed weary gray eyes. I was asleep before she finally came to bed last night. Or was it this morning? She was quiet on the trip and although I thought she was dozing, her reflection in the window showed her eyes open. She brought a box the size of paper and a couple of inches thick. She kept it by her feet.
"No, of course not. I need to return some phone calls."
I waited while she changed into a night shirt. I tucked her in and gave her chaste kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart."
I bummed restlessly around the apartment. It was too early for me to go to sleep even after the drive back. My calls were quick and painless. My Dad was upset that I left without telling anyone I was going and I dutifully apologized. Two friends had called to invite me out and I turned down the invitations. It was eight o'clock and I was alone. Alec was sleeping in my bed, but I was still alone.
Her itinerary was still a secret. She mentioned "meetings", but never said with who or where. The subject was probably her paintings or the financial accounts of being Alec Chasen. When she said she bought the beach house and Jag, she was telling the truth about having the money. She made smart financial deals with the money she earned from her paintings.
The alarm was set to wake her at an ungodly seven in the morning. I would not see her again until fivish. We were meeting back here to dress for dinner. Alec was excited about the after dinner activity. We were going to pick out a tree and decorate it. Alec said she could not remember decorating a tree. Brian and Jillian's trees were professionally decorated; she and Cordelia did not celebrate the holiday.
I gave up the pretense of reading shortly after nine. If I had to be awake, at least I could enjoy the feel of Alec sleeping in my arms.
~~~~
Alec was gone when I rolled out of bed the next morning. I never even heard the alarm go off. All through the condo were signs that Alec was, for the week, living in my home. Her robe was thrown on the foot of my bed and the bathroom smelled faintly of her shampoo. Plate and cup in the sink, scattered newspaper on the table, and a brief note with her pager number signed "Love, Alec."
Was this what it would be like to live with an Alec who could cope with life, who could be happy? If this is what it would be like I was ready.
I did not go to my office. I had an errand to run that could not wait. I drove through the mid morning traffic and wondered how Elane was going to get from her Malibu home to the gallery. The Mercedes was her only car and Alec was driving it. Was Alec playing chauffeur?
Elane was standing in the middle of the showing floor directing the hanging of Christmas ornaments. Holly wreaths were being hung around the upper gallery balcony with care and carols played over the music system. She was using a cinnamon air freshener this year.
"Victoria, I didn't expect to see you today. Or at all this week," she said with a wink.
I walked down into the sunken circle and nodded at the festive atmosphere. "Are you going to have a Christmas Eve showing this year?"
"No," she answered briefly. "Michele, dear, that's crooked. Turn it a little to the left. Yes, right there."
She took me by the arm and led me to her office. "You know this is the odd year. I'm off to England."
Oh yes, the famous Christmas trips to England. Five years ago she brought back Alec Chasen. If I recalled the lie right, she went to an art gallery and saw her first Chasen. She was so impressed with Alec's work that she arranged to meet the artist. When she came back to Los Angeles after the New Year, Alec was with her.
I waited until her office door was shut and we were seated to say, "How is your grandmother? I guess she's kind of my grandmother, too, now. You know since Jillian is my step?mother."
To her credit, Elane did not bat an eye. She sat back in her chair and dipped her head in acknowledgment. "She would like the whole family together, but that's not going to happen."
The Brent?Young family was maddening. They lied and lied and then when you caught them, they did not even have the decency to be embarrassed. They just smiled that half smile of acquiescence and smoothly answered all questions as if talking about this subject was as natural as breathing air. They should have all been actors.
"Elane, all those times I sat in this office and complained about Alec. You never said a word. Why?"
She sighed and looked away. "What was I supposed to tell you, Victoria? You are a writer for The Los Angeles Times. Did you expect me to tell you that Alec Chasen is really Kellen Brent and that Jillian Young is my aunt? I mean, did you really expect that?"
"We were friends, Elane. Do you really believe I would destroy our friendship over a story? Even one that would make my career."
Blue green eyes met mine in a direct stare. "I'm sorry if you feel betrayed. I'm sorry if you think our friendship is over. This family has been to hell and back. It was a chance I just couldn't take. I trusted you, but what if I was wrong, Victoria? You wanted to her, and with that kind of knowledge you would have destroyed her."
The sad part is that I did understand. Who knows what I would have done with that story two years ago. I would like to think I would have kept their secret. But could I honestly say how I would have reacted when Alec threw me from her home? Although I am not vindictive, I do like to get even.
I smiled at Elane. "Our friendship isn't over unless you want it to be."
~~~~
Alec wanted spaghetti for supper. She had changed from her suit into 5O1's and a red long sleeve T?shirt with white snowflakes. She was excited about buying a tree.
"I want a really big one," she said. She was eating as if she had not eaten all day. "What kind of stuff do you put on it?"
When we lived together, I decorated our tree alone. Alec would give it a glance, call it "nice", and disappear into her studio. I was lavish with the decorations then, believing that sooner or later Alec would catch the Christmas spirit. Now that I know what happened to her on one Christmas, I was surprised she would ever want to celebrate the holiday. Surprised, but certainly delighted to be the one who got to share her unbridled enthusiasm.
"We can put whatever you want on it."
We left the restaurant and began the search for the perfect Christmas tree. For someone who never bought a tree before, Alec roamed the lots with a critical eye, rejecting tree after tree. Most were too short or not round enough.
"What about this one?" she asked, standing by the tallest tree I have ever seen. It had to be over nine feet tall.
I shook my head. "That's taller than my ceiling. It has to be shorter."
Her face fell and she walked away from her tree dejected. I stared at the tree and mentally cut a few inches off the bottom. So what if it was exceptionally round at the bottom? I was letting Alec pick the tree and this was the tree she wanted.
"Hey Tory," she called.
I turned and she was nowhere to be seen. I walked through the trees following her happy voice.
"I want this one."
I stared at the small, raggedy tree. It was in the back of the lot and dwarfed by the other trees. The only thing this tree had going for it was that it had a perfect Christmas tree shape. "Why?"
She came to my side and took my hand. She stared at her little outcast with bright eyes. "Because no one else will want it and it should have a home."
I should have known that the kid no one wanted would pick out the tree no one would take.
Alec decided she wanted to give the little tree dignity. She sat on the floor and looked around in disappointment at my strings of blinking, colored lights, colored balls, and wooden ornaments. "Tory, can I go get what I want?"
She left with a bright grin and a kiss quick. I was getting tired and her energy level was still on high. While she went where ever, I packed up my ornaments and carted the boxes back to my storage unit. I changed into my pajamas during the hour and a half that she was gone. I was flipping through the channels when she blew back into the condo.
"This is going to be so great," she bubbled.
I sat on the couch and we talked as she decorated her first tree. She wrapped a strand of white blinking lights and hung small metallic red balls and brass angels. I had to admit the tree did have a certain dignity when we turned off the lights. The white lights bounced twinkling colors of gold and red off the ornaments.
"Do you like it?" she asked softly.
I stood behind her and wrapped her in my arms. I told her what she wanted to hear because she was so excited and because I loved her. "It's perfect."
~~~~
Sunday came before I was ready to give Alec up. I loved coming home and finding her in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on our dinner. It was wonderful going to sleep with her in my arms. I knew our time was limited and so I tried to remember every happy grin and flash of silver eyes. I wanted to be able to take the memories out and flip through them after I put her on the plane.
"The next two weeks are going to be so slow," she complained on the ride to the airport. My heart lifted because she was going miss me almost as much as I was going to miss her.
I reached over and put my hand on hers. "But then it'll be the sixteenth. Are you coming on the sixteenth or the day after?"
"That day. I've already made the reservations."
I walked her to the concourse. We didn't talk as we waited for the loading call. Two weeks. How long could it be really? The past seven days had passed in a flash. How slow could the next fourteen go by?
The condo felt very empty when I got back. We left the tree on and the blinking lights were a better welcome than a dark, cold condo. It was a long way from the kind of welcomes I had gotten used to over the week. The condo was always warm, brightly lit and filled with the wonderful smells of Alec's home cooked food. I should find out how long she was to teach in the Aubres school system. And after the New Year, I was buying a house near the ocean.
When I pulled the covers back on my bed that night, I found the blue silk pajama top Alec slept in. She had left it on my pillow. I did not feel the least bit silly as I cuddled it before going to sleep. I would have preferred her, but I was happy to have the silk top. I should have taken something from her the other times she was here.
9.
The first week did pass miraculously quick. I knew that Alec was going to be a guest for the last two weeks of December so I wrote a few columns in advance. I did not want to have to work while she was here this time. So what if I missed out on coming home to Alec cooking dinner? We could do it together.
Jillian called me on that Saturday. I could tell she was nervous by the hesitant catch in her voice.
"Victoria, I know you don't want me to ask you about Alec. I can respect your reasons. But her thirtieth birthday is on the eighteenth. Rainer and I have a gift for her. May we leave it at your apartment?"
In all the excitement for Christmas, I had forgotten Alec's birthday was December 18. Her thirtieth. "Of course. Would you like me to come for it?"
"No, Rainer can bring it by. Will we see you at all Christmas day?"
Alec and I had not talked about Christmas Day yet. She knew I would want to see my father and knew that it meant I would see Jillian, too. I don't think she could think that far in advance about Christmas. If she gave it too much thought, the memories just might overwhelm her.
"Yes, but I don't know what time yet. When I talk to Alec I will try to get a time for you."
"Thank you Victoria," she said softly. I felt that she was thanking me for more than just keeping Alec's present at my house.
Alec's birthday. I was going to have to do something very special. And I was going to have to buy another gift. I had been so proud that all of my gift buying was over. So happy that I was not out searching for the perfect gift in what was left on the shelves. What to buy?
I thought about the gifts under the tree. I bought her the fisherman's sweater, a brass seahorse for her collection, a gold anklet, a bottle of Safari perfume, and a cookbook of traditional English deserts. All nice Christmas presents, but not exactly the perfect birthday gift for someone crossing over into a new decade. I wanted something personal and romantic. Something that didn't say your mother called and reminded me it was your birthday.
We never exchanged rings last time. We discussed it, but it never got past the talking stage. I think I wanted it more than Alec. She had to know that eventually we would separate and decided to forgo what would be nothing more than a gesture. I had found myself checking out the rings when I was searching for the anklet. In the end, I decided against a ring because of how Alec might react to my making such a decision on my own. Now, because birthday gifts are one way, I could give her one. She did not have to know that the ring would have a match, until she decided to return the gift.
Alec would be wearing my ring. I did not even care that I was disguising it as a birthday gift. I wanted a ring on her left hand, third finger, anyway I could get it there.
The perfect ring, gold band embedded with sapphires, was wrapped and beside Jillian's present by Wednesday. I became a coward Thursday afternoon. I was sitting at my desk writing when I was seized by the most horrible of thoughts. If Alec was going to cancel, and a small frightened part of me was expecting her to, it would be that night. There was no way I was going home until it was very late. I went to the same restaurant I went to weeks earlier when I did not want to be home when Alec called to lie that she was all right. After a solitary meal of baked chicken and steamed vegetables, I drove around Los Angeles to see the Christmas decorations.
What if Alec could not bring herself to come? Would I really be disappointed? Yes, but I would understand. That she would even consider spending Christmas in Los Angeles said so much about how far she had come from the Alec of two years ago. If she decided not to come, I would go to her. Yes, Christmas in Aubres. With Alec.
It was easier to go home now that I knew I would see her either way. Besides, Christmas in Aubres would be more special and romantic than Christmas in Los Angeles. I could see us on the deck watching the sun go down on Christmas Eve. The only light from the house would be the twinkling lights from the tree. Yes, Christmas in Aubres, where all the holiday memories would be new, would be better than Christmas in Los Angeles.
Alec had only bad memories of Christmas in Los Angeles.
I don't know if I was disappointed when I walked into the condo and saw the blinking light on the answering machine or if I was elated. I wanted Alec to come, but I made the holiday in Aubres seem so sweet and innocent, so romantic and festive. If given a choice, I would have chosen Aubres over Los Angeles.
Her voice was soft and weary. "Hi honey, sorry I missed you. Just wanted to touch base about tomorrow. My flight is at six?thirty. I can't wait to see you. I love you."
Now I knew. I was disappointed. I wanted to have Christmas in Aubres. And knowing what I know now, we would have been better off waking that morning far, far away from Los Angeles.
~~~~
I pretended to work for a few hours, but gave up the pretense a little before lunch. All I was doing in my office was clock watching, which forced the minutes to creep by that much slower. I sailed out the door at eleven?thirty.
What to do with seven hours? Everything I thought Alec and I would need over the next two weeks was already purchased. I stocked up on groceries and added a few goodies to add a few pounds to Alec's pathetically thin body. We were going to a friends only Christmas Eve party at Elane's gallery. Everyone was suppose to bring a general gift for a number drawing during the evening. I bought one for each of us to take. Driving around to see the decorations was out because I did that the night before and anyway, it was better to see them in the dark.
Los Angeles prides itself on plenty of attractions for entertaining people. Usually, I can find something of interest to do with a few spare hours. Unfortunately, it felt like I had a spare eternity and I was not interested in wasting time. I would have gladly, happily given those hours away if it meant that it would then be six?thirty. Let someone else have them because for me the time was nothing more than a cross to bear.
What to do? I was driving around, searching for something or anything to attract my attention. Then I saw her and I smiled. Victoria Senett, you have six hours to waste in your life, what are you going to do? Go to Disneyland. I sat up in the driver's seat with a feeling of purpose and grinned like an idiot at the little girl walking along the sidewalk wearing Mickey Mouse ears. If people could spend days in Disney and still feel like they didn't see everything, surely I could make a few hours seem to fly by.
On any other day, I might have felt a little silly walking into the Magic Kingdom alone and without a child holding my hand. The only times I have ever been here were when I was child myself and with a girlfriend's children. I never came alone.
I did not feel foolish walking along the streets among the families and couples. I stood in line for a few rides. The waits were long in the warm sun and the small children complained, and I smiled. Because it was now three. Three and a half down and only three and a half to go. Two really if I counted on leaving Disney at five.
Along the way I started a gift bag for Alec. If she ever came to Disneyland it was not with me. I bought Mickey Mouse ears, Mickey sleep shirt, Mickey candy, and a small stuffed Mickey Mouse. My last purchase was a Fantasia coffee mug. I could image her on the deck on some cold winter morning. She would be sipping from the mug, wearing the fisherman's sweater, and the rising sun would glint off my ring on her finger. I was getting very good at imagining Alec in my presents, my arms, my life. I liked the picture.
By the time five rolled around, I was pleasantly tired. I left the Magic Kingdom behind, thankful that my day had been made so enjoyable. While I was imagining things, it was not so hard to imagine me wandering through shopping centers until I was brain dead.
~~~~
I had enough time to go by the condo to change into some clean clothes. I hurried into a pair of black slacks and a teal dress shirt. Six?thirty was close to supper time and I wanted to be prepared to take Alec to a nice restaurant if she was hungry. I was famished. With all the things I did at Disneyland, buying food was not one of them. I was so intent on wasting time and buying gifts that stopping for a leisurely meal never occurred to me.
The fear that she would not show was still with me. I stood in the waiting area, watching the people come from the plane and knew that Alec could very easily be in Aubres. I would not have been too surprised to learn she simply could not force herself to get on the plane. Christmas in Los Angeles. With her past, it was a wonder she could even say the word Christmas.
The woman who came to me was a sad version of the woman I saw standing on the end of the pier six months ago. She was ashen and the circles under her eyes were so dark she looked like she had two black eyes. Her hair was shaggier and her new habit was to flick the bangs from her face with a toss of her head. She saw me and smiled, another poor imitation of the bright smile she had in Aubres.
I pasted a bright smile to my face and held her gently. God, she felt even thinner. How much weight could she lose? "Where would you like to eat? I am starving,"
She shrugged and kept her eyes on the luggage carousel. "I'm not very hungry, so go where you would like to eat."
When we were in my car, I turned in the driver's seat to face her. I did not try to keep my concern to myself any longer. She looked like a walking corpse. "I wish I never came back into your life."
She had been looking out the passenger's window, her head resting against the seat. She sat that way for another few moments before rolling her head around to face me. "Please do not do this now, Victoria. Is it possible that you could just be happy I'm here and that we are going to spend the holiday together?"
"How can I be happy when you look like you're going to collapse any minute? I'm not blind Alec. Do you think I can't see how you look? Do you think I don't know why?"
It happened in an instant. The weary indifference vanished and she bolted up in the seat. I know that anybody who walked near the Cherokee heard her righteous indignation. "God, but you are incredible. I am here. It is bloody Christmas in bloody Los Angeles and I flew in just to be with you. I bought you bloody presents. And now you dare to complain? What more could you possibly want?"
Furious dark gray eyes raked over me and I stared at her in shock. She turned in the seat, one hand braced on the dash board. "You do not even have a clue as to how difficult this has been for me. You had better get appreciative, Victoria, or you can bloody well put me back on that plane. I am doing this for you. How dare you think this is not enough?"
We stared at each other. Alec was breathing fast and I could see her heart hammering in the artery in her neck. Anger had brushed her cheeks with some much needed color. I was shocked by her emotional outburst. This was not Alec's style. Her way was to be sarcastic and cynical, to make you feel foolish in the face of her unflappable composure.
"You sounded incredibly British. Do you always use bloody when you're angry?" I smiled at her. I desperately wanted to wash her anger away.
She frowned, unwilling to give up her anger so easily. I could see her point and knew she would never see mine. Maybe knowing that I wasn't blind to the changes was enough for me to be able to encourage her to eat. I would even call and get an appointment for her hair tomorrow if she wanted.
I reached over to the hand tensed against my dashboard. I pulled the cold fingers into my hand and locked our fingers together. "What I meant, Alec, is that I'm worried about you and I'm sorry if my coming back into your life has hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. Ever. I love you so much."
She sighed and shut her eyes. She leaned over until her forehead was touching my shoulder. "You are not hurting me. Your coming back into my life is the best thing that has ever happened to me."
She sat up and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I love you. You know my life, Tory. You know I have not had a lot of people to love. Or to love me back."
I slipped my head behind her head, through the shaggy pale blonde hair at her collar. I rested my cheek against hers. "Promise me that you will let me take care of you, just for while you're here. Let me protect you the way a person who loves would."
She buried her face in my shoulder. Her fingers were so tight as they bit into my arms I was sure to find bruises tomorrow. She whispered so softly I barely heard her, "I want you to take care of me always."
~~~~
My grand plans for the night were to take Alec to a nice restaurant, laugh with her as I shared our holiday plans, and to take her home where she would open her Disney surprises while I exaggerated my day. It was a good plan. Alec would have laughed and she would have had fun. However, instead of the woman I met in Aubres, the woman who arrived was the one who fled Los Angeles two years ago.
We called for Chinese delivery from my house. Alec curled up on the couch and stared at the tree lights blinking in the darkened living room. Her luggage was in the bedroom. After I made the call, I went into the living room and sat in front of her on the floor.
She met my forced enthusiasm with a blank face. "Want to know what I did today?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes dark and huge in her face. She was sitting in the corner of the couch and she rested her cheek on her knees to look down on me.
I sat up to pull the Disney bag from the floor next to the couch. I glanced up and was rewarded with a flicker of interest in her eyes. She lifted her head from her knees to watch me pull her gifts from the bag.
"I was ready for you to be here at eleven this morning. I wasn't getting any work done at the paper so I left to find something to do. Guess what I did."
Her smile was faint. She swung her feet to the floor and leaned over. "Became a child? I wish I could have shared that with you."
She picked up the shirt and held it up to see the screen printed Mickey Mouse yawning his way to bed in night shirt and cap. "I like this. Did you get two?"
She glanced down at me when I didn't answer. I loved her. I would have gone to Disneyland every day for the rest of my life it meant she would have that soft look on her face, have those happy eyes whenever she looked at the gift I brought back for her. I didn't even care that I would go broke in a month.
I shook my head. "No, I only bought one for you. All of this is for you."
Delighted surprise lit her face and chased away the last of her shadows. "Really? This is mine?"
My thank you hugs were cut short by the ringing doorbell. Alec pulled away and smiled down into my face. "While you get that, I'll slip into something more comfortable."
I watched her walk into my bedroom before answering the door. What poor timing, I thought darkly, peeking to see who it was. What incredibly bad timing, I thought as I opened the door to the teenage boy bearing a bag of food. I wasn't even hungry anymore. Well, not for food at least. I handed him the money and took the bag all in the same motion. "Keep the change."
I hurried over to the counter and placed the bag next to her birthday presents. I ran to the bedroom, but I was too late. Alec was dropping the shirt over her head as I came into the room. "I love this. Thank you."
I walked over to slip my arms around her waist. "I love you. You are very welcome."
Our lips touched in our first kiss of her arrival. Arguing was not how I wanted to spend her first night here. Or any night. I wanted every day to filled with laughter and every night to be filled with love. They would, too, even if it meant I had to ignore how thin she was and how shadowed her eyes were.
"Not before you eat," she said breaking the kiss, when I was pushing her towards the bed.
"Before who eats?" I asked, my hold on her tight.
She sighed and nodded. "Okay, not before we eat. I'm not hungry, Tory. I think people should eat only when hungry."
I followed her back into the living room. The shirt fell to mid?thigh. Her legs were no longer tanned and toned. The tan could be explained away by the fact that she lived in an area where they really did have a winter. The smooth muscled look she had before could not be explained away so easily.
"Yes well, people should eat every day whether they're really hungry or not. Your body can't get food for itself just because you don't feel like eating."
I flipped on the kitchen lights. Alec was taking the boxes from the bag. "Tory, I do not need a mother. As you are so fond of reminding me, I have a mother. I doubt I could survive another one."
"Speaking of your mother, those presents over there are your birthday presents. One is from me and one is from your mother."
I was in the kitchen gathering plates, forks, and glasses. I turned in surprise when I heard the ripping of paper. Alec was standing at the end of the counter opening Jillian's gift. Her long bangs fell across her face and I could not see her expression. I bit back my initial protest. Who was I to tell her not to open a present from her mother?
I took the dishes around the counter and set them next to the food. I walked up behind her and slipped my hands around her waist and pulled her back against me. She was holding a gold framed black and white photo. A woman who could have been Alec was lying on a couch holding a small blonde child on her body. The child's head rested against her shoulder and small socked feet were propped on the back of the cushions. Jillian's hand rested on Kellen's stomach. Kellen was sleepy as she listened to Jillian read the book she was holding. I know it was the expression on Jillian's face that was holding Alec in silence. The child in her mother's arms was cherished and adored. It was written in the loving smile, it was bright in the devoted eyes.
"I remember this," Alec whispered. "That afternoon, before the party. She was trying to calm me down. I was so excited."
I knew, as her voice grew softer and her fingers became white as she held the frame, this picture had been a very bad idea. Perhaps, some time next year in far away Aubres, she could have handled seeing this. But not today. Not ever in Los Angles. Not with the anniversary of that day so very close. I reached around her for the picture but she held it away from me.
"I wish I could forget," she said and laid the picture face down on the counter. She slipped from my arms and walked away from me. "I'm sorry, Tory, but I really can't eat anything."
I was left alone with a bag of Chinese food and an apartment that felt very empty. I reached for the picture. How could Jillian do this to Alec? She knew, knew, that this gift would be opened before Christmas. At the very, very latest, Alec would have opened it on her birthday, which was barely a week earlier than Christmas. I knew Jillian didn't really know Alec and I had given her the benefit of every doubt because of that. But she knew better than this, didn't she? What kind of mother would give her child a birthday gift of the day the child was "killed" and with the mother's permission? Of course, logical thought was not something Jillian Young had ever been accused of having.
This was another gift I should have opened. I should have torn the beautiful silver?blue paper off the gift before Alec ever arrived. I stared at the two of them. The love on Jillian's face and the expression of sleepy contentment on a very young Alec. Would I have understood, even now, what this scene would do to Alec? And if I could not, how could Jillian?
It was easy for me to want her to forgive Jillian. It was easy for me to think she could walk away from what had been done to her. It was easy because it didn't happen to me. I did not live every day with memories that only two years ago had driven Alec to the brink of insanity. I would never understand, not the way a person who lived it did. I had seen it and I was horrified by it, but I still did not appreciate how bad it truly was.
By the time I came to bed, Alec was in a restless sleep. I carefully eased into bed beside her and slipped my arm around her. I loved her so much and I wanted so much for her. I would leave her if it was for her best.
Wouldn't I?
~~~~
I woke with a start around four that morning. I sat up in bed and knew that something was wrong, but was not oriented enough to know what it was. A quarter moon faintly lit my bedroom. I glanced over the shadowed room, over the tangled sheets of the bed. Alec. She was asleep in my arms when I went to sleep and now she was gone.
The only light in the living room was the blinking lights of the tree, but even they were brighter than the moon outside my window. I stood in the doorway and watched her. She was curled up on the couch, staring at her mother's gift. What did she see when she looked so intensely at the picture? Or what was she hoping to find?
"Hey," I said softly, coming into the living room. She turned at the sound of my voice and blinked slowly as she came from the daze. Her smile was fleeting and did little to erase the residuals of loss from whatever she had relived.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she said, as if she had been blasting music instead of sitting in silence.
I sat at her feet and put my hands on her legs. "Let's go back to Aubres, Alec. We can have a really nice Christmas there."
Please, I wanted to beg, please let's leave here before you drift away. I could see her closing within herself and, at this rate, I could not see how she would be anything less than catatonic by Christmas. She thought she could do this and I was proud that she had even tried. But it wasn't worth it if I lost her to the memories.
She dropped her bleak gray eyes to the frame. "I cannot run anymore Tory. I am going to have to face my life, all of it, and I think it best if I begin now. Later will be harder and I do not want to make this harder. Can you understand?"
No, not really. She almost sounded as if the decision of when and if she would face her past had been taken from her. And that she regretted that loss of control. I met her confused, frightened gaze. "I can try."
She nodded and handed the frame to me. "The gesture was very nice of Jill. Will you thank her for me?"
Once again, I was left alone as she went into the bedroom. Sometimes I think I would like to know how Alec thinks. I think it would be nice to know how she reaches the decisions and the conclusions that she does. This was not one of those times. I don't know if I was too tired or just too tired to care, but I really didn't want to know how Alec decided whatever she had decided.
Christmas was in eight days. Her birthday was tomorrow. I had only two wishes for my life that night. I wanted Christmas to be perfect and I wanted her birthday to be special. I got one of my wishes. I would have sold my soul to have had the other.
~~~~
The Alec who shared my life over the next week was the Alec I would have wanted had I been able to request her. The decision she reached in the darkness of that night gave her a freedom I envied. It was almost as if nothing mattered anymore. So it was Christmas in Los Angeles. So her mother was breathing the same air. So what.
I gave her the ring over a private dinner and was rewarded with a soft, deep kiss in front of God and everyone. I slipped the ring on her finger as she whispered in my ear that she loved me, and would show me how much that night. Before we went to sleep, she laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled close.
"Thank you for making this day so perfect."
One wish down, one to go. I was surprised that Alec was as eager for Christmas to come as I was. I talked to her about Rainer and Jillian tentatively. I was so afraid of her reaction. Here I was asking to spend part of the day with her mother in that house on the anniversary of the day she lost both. I waited until the morning of Christmas Eve before approaching her. At least this way if she got angry, I didn't have to live very long with it.
She smiled at me. Her eyes didn't narrow dangerously or grow a thunderous black like I expected. "That's fine. You can take my gifts for them with you."
Just like that? I didn't trust her. She reached over and put her hand on mine. "Really Tory. I know you have to go. Now, if you asked me to go with you, that would be a different story. I thought I would call Cordelia while you were gone."
She really was all right with it. I was amazed at her ability to accept all this not only without snide comment, but so gracefully.
If I had stopped to think about it instead of enjoying it, I would have gotten apprehensive as I waited for the real Alec Chasen to appear. The angry, bitter Alec Chasen who hated Christmas, Los Angeles, and Jillian Young passionately. Instead, I enjoyed the Alec she could be when she was truly happy and content. I didn't stop to question how she could be happy and content, here and now, with tomorrow coming closer as the hours ticked away.
She was truly happy. I knew that without a doubt. Elane came to stand next to me at the Christmas Eve party. Alec was laughing with another woman in front of the new display of Chasen Originals.
"Okay, who is that?" She gestured with her champagne glass to Alec.
I smiled. "Alec's having a good time."
Elane threw me an incredulous glance. "Can you say Alec and good time in the same sentence?"
I understood her confusion. We were both used to the Alec who came to Los Angeles five years ago. But we weren't the same people we were then, so why did Alec have to be? People grow. They let go of past anger, forgive past hurts. Or so I told myself in the gallery that night. I watched her laugh, shared smiles with her and convinced myself that Alec wasn't pretending to be happy for my benefit. She was happy. Not even the daughter of an Oscar nominated actress can fake true happiness.
As we laid down in my bed, I asked what she wanted more than anything else tomorrow. She leaned over me. The half moon fell on her silver hair like a halo, caught the loving, gentle smile playing around her lips.
"What I want I already have," she whispered.
She trailed satiny kisses down my neck. Her hand moved in a tantalizing caress across my stomach. "I want you."
Well, if that's all she wanted, tomorrow was going to be perfect. I wasn't wrapped, but that could definitely be arranged. I had some red ribbon left and a few bows. Of course, I wouldn't fit under the tree.
"I love you," she said, sliding down beside me.
I rolled over to face her. "I love you."
10.
Christmas Day. It held such promise and it was ruined before it even began. The vision I had of Alec and I opening presents between long kisses shattered in the pre?dawn darkness of a telephone call. I thought about not answering it as I struggled from the depths of sweet dreams. I wish now that I had let it ring.
There was no preamble, no pretense of holiday greetings. "Is she there?"
The voice was a vaguely my Dad's, how I imagine he might sound if he was being strangled. I sat up and tried to make sense of what was happening. It was hard when I did not understand why he was calling three minutes before six on Christmas morning. "Who?"
"Have you seen the paper?" Jillian asked.
Alec sat up. She stared at me with sleepy, annoyed eyes. Who is it? She mouthed. I shook my head at her and turned my gaze away from her uncovered breasts. I couldn't think with them in my line of vision.
"I was sleeping. What's wrong?" Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horrendously wrong and it was quickly becoming my problem.
"Let me speak to Alec," Jillian said. If Rainer sounded strangled, she sounded hysterical.
Now I was annoyed. "Just tell me what's wrong," I snapped. God did everything have to be a drama with her?
Alec was frowning at me. When she asked me again who it was, I told her to go get the paper. A two way call with Rainer and Jillian was bad enough, there was no way I could handle talking to Alec, too. I heard crying and the click of a phone hanging up.
"Did you know Alec was writing her autobiography?" Rainer demanded. Jillian was the who was crying and was now off the line. "Do you know what this is doing to Jillian?"
I shut my eyes. It was now six exactly. Three minutes into the day and I was already tired of it. I did not have answers for him. Alec never told me about an autobiography. He knew more than I did, why was he asking me? Because Alec was my lover and if anyone should have known it was me. Logical choice if this was anyone other than Alec.
"Dad, believe me when I say I don't know anything. I'll call you back in half an hour. Okay? Give me half an hour."
"No. You bring her here. I don't care how you do it, Victoria."
Alec came in and tossed the paper in my lap. WHO IS BURIED IN KELLEN BRENT'S GRAVE? asked the banner headline. It was worse than I could have imagined. It was more than just Alec's life story, it was about Brian and Jillian. She did what I thought she would never have the courage to do: she told the world the truth.
I don't know why Alec went to Windchase. There was nothing Rainer could do to make her come and yet she did not even put up a token fight. Did she know that she would have to face her mother when it became public she had written her book? I think she did. I think she prepared for it and knew what she would say.
We were quiet on the ride to Windchase. I did not know what to say, what to ask. I would read the newspapers hours later, after the truth was told, after Rainer's news conference. She took the paper back before I could do more than glance over the headline. She asked if the phone call was from Jill and Rainer. I told her Rainer wanted her to come to Windchase. To my astonishment, she said okay and began to dress.
The front door was opened before we got out of the car. Rainer had his arm around Jillian. She was pale enough to faint. They stared at us in accusation., but nothing was said until we were on the patio. A buffet breakfast was prepared and four places were set at the table. Who could eat?
"Patrick will deny everything," Jillian began.
"I know. I also know you will be standing by his side when he does," Alec replied.
The woman standing before us did not resemble the breathtaking movie star I had come to know. Panic darkened her eyes, turned her elegance into stiff, jerky movements. She could barely look Alec in the eyes. Rainer stepped behind Jillian and steadied her with his hands on her shoulders.
"You could have told us. Jillian should have been warned this was going to happen."
Cold gray eyes slid over my father and dismissed him for the outsider he was. He might have married to her mother, but he was nothing to her. His first mistake was to think he could shame her.
"You're naive if you think he's going to let you do this. You don't know Patrick. You don't know what he can do." Jillian was truly scared. Of Patrick or what he could do I did not know, but she feared him. Who was she more afraid for, her or Alec?
Alec sat at the table and we followed. She and Jillian were sitting side by side. This was the first time I saw them together. Alec, holder of all the calls, was poised and icy. The relaxed ease Jillian achieved on the cruise was replaced by tense worry. One had everything to lose and one had nothing left.
"Who knows better than I? But please, tell me what he can do. Just remember in his little world I am already dead."
Jillian grabbed Alec's hand. She leaned forward until their faces were almost touching. "Stop it! This is not a game. This story will destroy Patrick's career. Do you think he is going to let you do that?"
"Patrick doesn't let me do anything. This is my life. Not yours. Not Patrick Brent's. Mine. I can do what I want with it."
Jillian shook her head. "Not this. He will destroy you."
Alec sat back in her chair. "All he can do is deny me. I am used to that from this family."
Jillian flinched. She stood and paced the patio. Alec watched her until she lost interest and turned her gaze to the ocean. She seemed serene and poised compared to Jillian's anxious pacing. Finally, she turned frightened green eyes on Alec. "Why now? Why after all this time?"
Was it a coincidence the story ran on Christmas morning? Twenty-five years ago today another headline declared her dead. I did not want to believe Alec snuggled in my arms last night and knew what the headline of the paper would be this morning. Alec walked to the buffet table and filled a small glass with orange juice. She drank half the glass while we watched. I held my breath as Alec turned to face her mother.
"Because you sacrificed me for Patrick's son."
The soft words jerked Jillian like marionette wires. "I did not sacrifice you. I wanted you to grow up free from Brian. Patrick told me-"
Alec could her off with a cruel laugh. "Free from Brian? My God, after everything that happened, how could you ever think that was a possibility? No, Jill, I remember. I remember Brian. I remember that I hated him before I ever got the chance to love him. I remember everything."
Jillian stared at Alec in silence. A calm settled over her. "You don't remember everything."
A smile toyed around Alec's lips as she walked to within inches of Jillian. "I remember the husband you have spent the last twenty five years grieving for hated you. God how he hated us. How could you stay with someone who loathed the very sight of you?"
Jillian remained silent. Her only defense was one she could not use without letting Alec know the reason she stayed was because of her. She was judged and condemned in the eyes of her daughter. What Alec considered unforgivable was the only choice Jillian could make.
"What don't I remember?" Alec asked, when it was obvious her mother was not going to defend herself.
Rainer walked to Jillian. He put his hands on her shoulders protectively. "We need to talk about Patrick, not the past. Whatever happened-"
"Does your husband know about that night?" Alec asked, cutting my father off without apology. "Have you told him the truth or does he knew the Brent version?"
Jillian turned to bury her face in my father's chest. Rainer tightened his arms around her. Cold blue eyes lashed out at Alec. "I know the truth."
From my chair, I watched Alec raise an eyebrow in question. "Really Rainer? I'm impressed. You must have amazing talents. I would have bet that by now even Jill believes Patrick's version of that night. God knows she must have wanted it to be any other way than the way it happened."
Jillian spun to face Alec. Her face was ashen and her green eyes had the lunatic sheen I saw the first time I met her. "Why are you doing this?"
Alec stared at them in silence for several long beats. She did not move, but the taunting sarcasm on her face when she spoke to my father slowly slipped away. She turned on her heel and walked to the edge of the patio, her eyes on the endless blue of sea and sky. As we waited tensely, I knew I did not want to hear what she was going to say.
"You let him put that gun to my head."
Jillian staggered as if the words spoken so softly were a blow across her face. Alec faced her and they were separated by only a few feet of red tile, but it might as well have been the universe.
"I couldn't stop him," Jillian whispered, her voice cracking
"You never tried," Alec shot back icily.
"I did my best," Jillian's voice was stronger now. There was no pleading to be understood.
Alec was not impressed. "That's the one thing you never did. The best thing to do was to leave here."
Jillian stared at Alec in understanding. "You blame me, don't you?'
"Can you possibly think you're blameless?"
"Yes."
Alec walked around the patio. She out her glass down on the table. Her gaze slid blindly over Rainer and I. We had ceased to exist for them. They were alone, facing a common demon that had haunted their dreams and darkened their lives for twenty-five years.
"You never understood. I did, even at five I understood. Someone was going to die that night. We were lucky it was him."
As we watched, her eyes took on that distant look that meant she had gone somewhere else. She crammed her hands into pockets of her jeans. She seemed so small and alone facing us. Lost gray eyes stared beyond us, looking into a past that was never far away.
"Just like Mommy," she said, her voice soft in remembrance. "Those were his last words to me. Just like Mommy. I must have heard those words a million times from him. I guess It's only right they were the last ones he would ever say to me."
She drifted further inside herself, listening to her father damn her with what should have been a compliment. She shook her head slightly and her eyes cleared. She focused on Jillian and her voice took on a hard, icy edge. Her eyes narrowed as the dark turn of events paraded across her mind.
"I don't know how long I was asleep before you came into my room that night. I've often thought those hours must have been an eternity for you."
Her gaze shifted to my father. "The books says she was 'savagely' beaten that night. The books are right about that at least. He did it before they came into my bedroom so that is one memory I was spared. Her face was bruised and bloody. She wore only her slip and blood was everywhere. Her arms and face, his shirt and hands were splattered. He threw her on my bed. I was on-"
"No!" Jillian burst out. "You don't remember. You do not remember that night!"
Alec stared at her without even a glimmering of compassion in her eyes. She took up the story as if her mother's anguished words never reached her ears. She walked us through those last minutes, minutes in which she lost everything. She told us how a child's pristine white bedroom becomes blood red.
"He had a gun."
Jillian spun to my father and buried her face in his chest. I heard her muffled sobs. She was trying vainly not to hear Alec's relentless recital of that night. I tore my gaze from them and stared at Alec as she relived that horrific night. She told us of Brian's last atrocious acts against his wife and child. She met my eyes for the first time since beginning her story. Her gaze never left mine as she reenacted the final scene.
"He should have been an actor. He put that one bullet into the gun's chamber with such flair. He would have won an Oscar."
Her voice became hollow, her eyes a black bottomless pit. "He grabbed Jill first. He pushed her on her knees in front of him and made her look up at him as he placed the barrel of the gun against her forehead. I think she tried to pull away. When he pulled the trigger the gun just clicked. Then it was my turn. 'Just like Mommy' he said. I heard Jill whispering 'No Brian, please no.' The barrel felt cold against my forehead. Again, the just clicked when he pulled the trigger."
"He had his left hand on my shoulder. He put the gun to his temple with his right hand. I wonder why he did it. Maybe he hated himself as much as he hated us. I know there is a God because when he pulled the trigger that time he blew the side of his face off."
Her voice never changed, her eyes never wavered from my face. Whatever last image Alec held of her father was one that caused her no emotion. In my mind, I saw Brian Brent raise the gun to his own head and pull the trigger. I felt like throwing up.
Her voice empty, her eyes blank, she said to me, "I did not kill him, Tory. I only wish I did"
I heard Rainer whisper, shocked, "Oh my God."
She did not cry for Brian when he was alive, she did not cry when he died; it was too late for her to pretend to cry now.
The only sound on the patio was Jillian softly crying, "You don't remember."
Alec shifted her gaze to her mother. Jillian was devastated, repeating her litany through gasping sobs. Alec watched her mother cry was cool detachment.
"I never forgot."
~~~~
All hell had broken loose and it was pure chaos at the gates of Windchase. Our first inkling of trouble was the guard calling to say a news van from KXLA wanted a comment about the news story. Before we knew it, a mob of reporters had set up camp. It was December 25, 1968 all over again.
Jillian was inconsolable. Rainer carried her to their bedroom and tried unsuccessfully to calm her. When scotch and soothing words did not work, he called her physician. Dr. Poole was an older woman who knew all the Brent family secrets. Alec and I waited silently in the living room. I wanted to talk to her and reassure her, but I had my own demons to wrestle.
Alec did not kill Brian.
"You killed Brian."
"That would be the logical choice."
She never said she killed Brian. Did she let me believe she killed her father? Or, was she so hurt by the conclusions I jumped to that she did not want to correct me? I know that at some point Patrick, even if he never came out and said it, made Alec believe she would be blamed if she did not keep their secret. Because nothing else made sense. Why else would she be sent away? United States Senator Patrick Brent would do anything to protect his son's image. I thought Kellen was sent away to protect her from what she had done.
"Well, she should be out for a while."
We stood up and waited for Rainer and Dr. Poole at the foot of the stairs. Dr. Poole smiled at Alec and hugged her briefly. Bright blue eyes swept over Alec's face.
"You grew up quite beautiful. How are you Kellen?"
"I see you're still patching up the Brent's bruises, Alec answered, a small uplifting of her mouth hinted at a smile.
They shared a look of old memories. How many times had this woman been summoned here in the middle of the night to clean up after Brian? Too many times, it seemed. She probably came the night Brian died. I would not be surprised to see her name on the death certificates of Brian and Kellen Brent.
The doctor turned back to Rainer. "Keep her away from the television, newspapers and radio. This is all over everything."
The news cameras duly recorded Dr. Poole leaving the house. The police parted the media sea so that she could leave the property. Rainer called in additional security from Jillian's security service and his assistant was handling the phone calls. We were as protected as Windchase and money could make us.
"Merry Christmas," Rainer said to us, his eyes on Alec.
She met his gaze squarely. She was only thirty, but her life had given her a hardness that belied her years. He was going to have be more than merely disappointed with his new step?daughter to make an impression on her.
"Has Patrick called yet?" she asked him. She walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
We followed her. I sat beside Alec and slipped my arm around her shoulders. She was tense. I gave her a reassuring squeeze and was reassured myself when I felt her lean into me for support. I wanted to be as strong as she was going to need.
"I want a drink," she said to no one in particular.
"What would you like?" Rainer asked. He walked to the wet bar and waited.
I held my breath. If she asked for a drink, would I have the courage to remind her that she was a recovering alcoholic? No. I would ask for what she did and I would drink it with her. God knew if anyone deserved the oblivion of alcohol it was Alec.
Alec took a deep breath. "Do you have Coke?"
Rainer handed us our glasses and sat in front of Alec on the coffee table. His glass held scotch on the rocks. He sat forward and rested his elbows on knees. "Why do you think Patrick is going to call here?"
Alec downed the glass as if it did hold mind numbing alcohol. "Because he's going to want to get their stories straight. He'll have to hold a news conference soon to deny the reports."
"And you're sure he'll deny them?"
I felt Alec shake in silent amusement. "I've bet my life on it."
Rainer sat back and stared at her. He did not know her and what little he did know, he did not like very much. She had done nothing to endear herself and more than a little to make him wish he could take her over his knee. But he saw something in her face or heard something in her voice that made him trust her. He nodded. "Then we'd better get ready. I'll prepare a pre?emptive statement."
Alec grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You can't do that. Do you realize what it will mean for Jill if you confirm this?"
Did she really care what this story would do to her mother? Why did she write her book? She was short sighted if she did not foresee until now what this would do to Jillian. What did she think the consequences would be?
"She's not going to deny you Alec. I can promise you that."
He went off to make whatever arrangements one makes to resurrect the dead. Alec sat back, sighing that he did not know what he was doing. Her glass was empty so she took mine and finished it off. She laid her head on my shoulder and we settled back on the couch. We sat in a comfortable silence and watched the red lights blink on the Christmas tree.
"Merry Christmas, Tory," she said sleepily.
"Merry Christmas, Kellen."
~~~~
A room down the hall from Jillian's was quietly prepared for us. Rainer took me aside and gave me the bad news. The press knew Alec was at Windchase. We would be mobbed if we tried to leave and there was not a place on earth Alec could hide this time. Security had been sent up to Aubres because he was afraid Alec's house would be broken into if left unguarded. Someone was sent to my condo. Clothes and Christmas presents were brought to Windchase.
"Thank you, Dad" His embrace felt as warm and safe as it did when I was a small child and afraid. The words were inadequate to describe the gratitude I felt at his protection of the woman I loved.
The shock of the day was beginning to take its toll on Alec. She sat on the couch and stared at the blinking lights. She heard what was said to her only after it was repeated three or four times. Her response to every question was a careless shrug and the slow blinking of dazed gray eyes.
I knelt in front of her and rubbed her ice cold hands. I spoke to her in a reassuring, firm voice. "Alec, I'm going to take you upstairs now. You're going to go to sleep."
She stood and mutely did as she was told. Hold up your arms Alec. Step out of your jeans Alec. Hold up your arms again Alec. Get in bed Alec. She rolled into a ball in the middle of the bed. I stood over the bed and stared down at her white face. Should we call the doctor again? If we did, could she even get to the house?
"Is she asleep?" Rainer asked when I came back downstairs an hour later.
"I think so." Her eyes were closed, her breathing was deep, and she didn't respond when I said her name softly. She was either asleep or in a coma. "Has Jillian woke yet?"
It was now five o'clock. Jillian had been asleep for about seven hours. "No. The best thing for both of them would be to sleep through the night. It was bad enough hearing all that, I don't want to know what it must have felt like to relive it."
We had yet to talk about the revelations of the morning. Almost immediately following the doctor's arrival, the press set up camp outside Windchase. While Alec slipped away from reality, Rainer began the preparations to protect Jillian and Alec. Everything we had done was what we believed to be in their best interest, but we did not have their consent for any of it.
"Patrick has called four times. He demands to talk to Jillian and refuses to talk to me. I wonder what he'll think of the press conference."
Rainer and his partners were giving a press conference at six. Rainer was going to confirm what The Los Angeles Times had printed as only a rumor. The article that stirred up all this trouble and had the press camped on our doorstep stated that Alec Chasen was claiming to be Kellen Brent. It was never printed that she was Kellen.
"Dad, do you think Jillian would want you to confirm Alec's identity?"
He stared at me as he thought about the question. Did he realize the consequences of this? Everyone would know Jillian had lived a lie all these years. She was immortalized because her handsome young husband and beautiful daughter were brutally murdered. They would think the tears she cried were faked. The past twenty?five years would be seen as nothing more than one hell of an acting job.
"The only thing I know for sure is that Jillian wants her daughter back. This is the only way that can possibly happen. It's a choice: her daughter or her public image."
He was gifted with a talent for stating the complex in simple terms. But he was not talking about a contract for a client. He was talking about two shattered lives. He was asking Jillian to pay a steep price for a maybe. There was no guarantee that when this was all over, Jillian would have her daughter. Alec could go back to her life in Aubres and refuse to answer the phone. There was nothing he could do to make Alec love Jillian.
There is never a promise of forgiveness when we say we are sorry. We take our chances and hope for the mercy from others that we did not show them. Jillian was making a grand gesture and asking forgiveness from a person who did not know the meaning of mercy. It was not one of the things Alec learned at her mother's feet.
"Good luck."
I gave Rainer a quick hug in the foyer and left him to talk with his partners while I went to the library to watch the press conference. I turned the television to a local station and sat back for the show.
I got my first real glimpse of the madness outside. Huge spotlights threw blinding light over the few dozen people and news vans. Police lights slashed blue over the barricades erected to stop the flow of gawkers in front of the estate. The only people allowed access to the road were news people and our few visitors.
"Good evening. I am at Windchase, the home of former actress Jillian Young." The young reporter held up a copy of the morning paper. "Who Is Buried In Kellen Brent's Grave? We hope to have the answer to that any minute now. We are waiting for Miss Young's husband, entertainment attorney Rainer Senett, to give a statement. For those of you who don't remember, Kellen Brent was the five year old daughter of Miss Young and the late director Brian Brent. Kellen and Brian Brent were supposedly murdered in the early morning hours of Christmas twenty?five years ago. According to this morning's paper, English painter Alec Chasen is claiming in her autobiography to be Kellen Brent."
The young woman stopped as the front door opened and Rainer stepped out. The conference was going to be given on the front steps. He would give his statement and take the few steps back into the house. He was not going to answer any questions. He was flanked by his partners. He looked into the camera briefly before dropping his gaze to the paper in his hand.
"This morning's headline is true. Alec Chasen is Kellen Brent, the daughter of Jillian Young and Brian Brent. The family decided at the time of Brian's death that it would be better for Alec to grow up sheltered from the tragedy and the publicity that has surrounded the family. Now that she is an adult, Alec has decided to come forward with the truth. Jillian and I support her fully in this decision."
Questions were shouted from all directions in futility. Rainer gave his speech and made his exit. The camera swung back to the flushed face of the reporter.
"Rainer Senett has confirmed that English painter Alec Chasen is Kellen Brent, the child thought murdered…" I turned off the television. So it was done and we would never be able to go back. I hoped that we had done what Jillian and Alec would have done if they had been able. I didn't know if a long road was ending or if one was just beginning. Either way, this time neither Jillian nor Alec would not be walking it alone.
Concluded in Part 3
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