Love Conquers All

by Galia Albin

  Chapter 43

  The ever generous Gloria offered Talia the use of her house for a soiree in honor of a historical movie - a gigantic enterprise by Israeli standards - that Talia was about to produce in Israel and in Europe. The wealthiest, most distinguished people in town were invited and accepted the invitation. The star of the event was the noted film director, Marvin Goldstone, darling of the media, idol of the masses. His newly released science fiction movie was a sweeping success, and the busy director was already engaged in preparing his next production, another science fiction movie replete with special effects guaranteed to delight children, their parents, and any person young in spirit. Despite all this, he accepted the invitation, thanks to Gloria's charm and clout.

  Talia missed Jonathan Riskin. The guests at the reception clustered in corners, discussing his fate. Gloria's husband, the former senator, Joshua Heifetz, explained to Talia the various aspects and intricacies of the trial with which she was not familiar. Apparently, Jonathan was acquitted of all the serious charges leveled against him: manipulating stocks and using inside information. Except for one negligible technicality, which he conceded only in order to avoid implicating his brother, nothing reprehensible was found in his conduct. And yet the judge imposed the maximum penalty on him - two years in a notorious Arizona prison.

  Talia practically commanded herself to snap out of the gloomy mood she was in. The cause for which the guests were gathered here tonight was a worthy one, and it required all her effort. To her delight, Gloria, with her infectious enthusiasm, was able to lift everyone's spirits. It wasn’t for nothing that Gloria was considered the most popular and glamorous hostess in town. Her huge living room was resplendent with lights and the glitter of women's jewels. Her husband, in a tuxedo and bow tie, mingled with the guests, giving each one the feeling that he or she was the guest of honor. The long table, covered with an ivory colored damask tablecloth, was laden with crystal and china, gold cutlery and exquisite flower and fruit arrangements. A small army of waiters and waitresses, dressed in black and silver taffeta uniforms, stood ready to serve the guests, and other servers circulated in the crowd offering festive little appetizers and goblets of champagne and aperitif.

  "Come and meet Marvin. He's really anxious to make your acquaintance.1' Gloria grabbed Talia's hand, and arm in arm, like two young girls, they approached the famous director who was standing in a far corner of the room. "Hey, Marv," Gloria waved to him, "come and meet a nice Jewish girl, and from Israel yet!" She turned around and whispered to Talia, "I'm leaving you now. I'm sure you'll manage on your own."

  Talia wasn't so sure that the famous director was indeed anxious to meet her, as Gloria, in her typical goodhearted yet shallow manner, had declared. She inspected him through the throng of people surrounding him. A woman in a turquoise sequined evening gown and a blonde Ivana Trump hairdo was holding onto his arm, describing in minute detail the plot of her latest novel, which she declared was excellent material for his next movie. Other people tried in vain to join in the conversation. The famous director looked bored yet bound by good manners.

  This was die time to apply the method she had devised many years ago in her hometown, Haifa. Whenever a boy she fancied paid no attention to her, she would fix him with her eyes, concentrating her mind on him. Ditty said that no man could help but feel such stubborn and complimentary looks, and most were bound to respond.

  "Hey, you pretty Israeli you. Why are you standing there so quietly? This might tarnish our reputation as gracious hosts, don't you think Melissa?" the director finally noticed her and called out to her, smiling at the sequined woman, who nodded enthusiastically.

  "I've been here long enough to know this city," Talia said. "You really are different from us Mediterranean people. We conduct our lives in the streets, and the house is an extension of the street, whereas here the streets are empty, everyone drives enormous cars - an extension of secluded, fenced-in castles. How can you get to know people here?” Talia approached the inner circle and stopped in front of him. "But luckily Gloria throws parties which gave me the opportunity to meet you. I was afraid it wasn't ever going to happen."

  "Glorious Gloria. Well, if Gloria is involved, than it was beshert that we meet..."

  "Beshert? Is that Yiddish?"

  "Sure, it's a word my mother manages to weave into every conversation. It's like the Indian karma - luck, fate, predestination. How come you don't know the word?"

  "My family is from Vienna. Yiddish was out of bounds for us. It was considered too vulgar for my mother. Gloria tells me that you are thinking of making a movie about the Holocaust. I find that very exciting."

  The director's eyes twinkled, and he put his mouth to her ear. "You know, until now, whenever I mentioned the subject, people told me I was crazy; I would lose my investment and tarnish my reputation. I've had this idea in my head for the last five years. I begin and then I stop, and then I read scripts, but you're the first one to show enthusiasm, empathy..."

  "Tell me more. I have an insatiable interest in everything that happened there, in my parents' 'cultured homeland,' and I’m also interested in filmmaking...

  "I know that. After all, this is your party. So I have two reasons to invite you to my mother's coffee house, where we can sit quietly and talk."

  The circle of guests around them had dispersed, and they found themselves alone, facing each other. "It's not a fashionable place where celebrities hang out, you know," the director continued naturally, as if they had known each other for years. "It's just a homey kind of place. Every girl I go out with gets taken first to my mother's place. After all, I'm the son of a genuine Yiddishe Mama, and her cakes are out of this world - absolutely delicious. You probably know what Hungarian mothers' cakes taste like."

  “Not exactly. As I’ve already told you, my mother’s from Vienna; that’s a different world altogether. You couldn’t cut her cakes with a chainsaw. We finally convinced her to channel her energies into more profitable enterprises. Now she buys her cakes at Manzi’s, the Hungarian bakery...”

  “Well, now you’ll have a chance to taste the best blintzes in the world, and honey cake and poppy seed pies with raisins, the likes of which you’ve never tasted. When you’re done with your guests, we’ll escape from here. My mouth starts to water just talking about my mother’s cakes...”

  Until the end of the evening, Talia wondered about the fate, coincidence or “beshert” that made her go unescorted to the reception that she would come out of accompanied by the most successful director in the world.

  Roselyn Goldstone was the nicest woman Talia had ever met. Short and chubby, like one of the donuts she was preparing for her son, humorous, opinionated, but very loving. A man who shows so much respect for his old mother, who looks and sounds so unusual, has got to be a good person, Talia thought, bringing her body closer to his, until they stood almost touching in the middle of the cafe. Marvin smiled at her and hugged her waist.

  “Oy, what a goldene meydele you are,” Roselyn beamed at Talia happily. She reminded Talia of the aunts who used to pinch her cheeks when she was a little girl. “Come here a minute, I want to show you something.” She pulled Talia into a little curtained room in the back of the cafe, which was the headquarters of her empire. “He has never been married, “ she whispered. “He’s forty years old; don’t you think it’s time he gave his mother a little Yiddishe naches? Who knows, maybe you’re his beshert? Go ahead, grab him before he’s caught by the next blonde shiksa that makes sheep’s eyes at him. He’s such a sweetheart, my only son, a great director - they talk about him everywhere, but when it comes to women, believe me he’s not a big maven."

  From where she was standing, Talia could hear Marvin’s voice. His voice was the most attractive feature about him, deep and soft, tinged with the smoke of Cuban cigars. Talia sneaked a look at him from behind the curtain. He was talking with an acquaintance. It was quite obvious that he was a not ladies' man; there was something vulnerable about him, hi
s mother had been overly protective of him, Talia thought. He was about her own height when she wore high heels and his stomach was flat. You could easily mistake him for a schoolteacher or a college professor. His hair was brown and curly, and a thick short beard covered his gentle face. His eyes, behind the horn-rimmed glasses, were small and rather close under his bushy eyebrows. Like Jonathan, he, too looked Jewish. She wondered how the subject of Jewishness had become so prominent in her thoughts since she came to town. She never used to define people’s look by Jewish criteria. Apparently, this is what happens to you when you are in the Diaspora. You start looking for people of the same origin as you, finding comfort in similarities and shared characteristics; this is a reflection of the desire to feel at home in the midst of a strange and hostile environment. After what had happened to Jonathan, everything is possible, she concluded, and suddenly she regarded Marvin in a different light, with both admiration and concern. She felt that they were allies; the feeling was almost one of love.

  Talia listened to his voice and took a deep breath. For a moment, she was oblivious to the figure he cut in the world, outside the old decrepit cafe, and concentrated on the man behind the public image. There was something affecting about him, something that prompted her to want to hold onto him. He is not even aware of my thoughts, of the choice I’m making here and now.

  Roselyn treated her as if she were already her beloved daughter-in- law. But how do we know that her son, too, will like her, Talia asked with a little smile, trying not to sound too eager, but Roselyn had no doubts, “ Don’t you know what you look like? Have you never looked in the mirror? Nobody told you?” She took a deep breath and continued, “With a figure like yours, nobody can tell that you had three children, and your gorgeous hair, the china doll skin and the green cat’s eyes, Talia, you’re a real beauty.”

  Gloria explained his attraction to her by the fact that she was an Israeli, “There’s no shortage of pretty girls here. Every starlet looks like Miss America, and every Miss America could become a starlet. But you have a special kind of beauty, unaffected, Mediterranean, feminine yet self-assertive, and this attracts him.”

  Talia and Marvin became an item, celebrated, feted, and talked about. Newspapers all over the country eagerly covered their romance. Talia waltzed into the glamorous world of Tinseltown almost effortlessly, swept on a giddy tide, not of ardent passion, but because of the aura that surrounded them as a couple. Flashbulbs greeted them everywhere they went; they posed embracing, beautiful, with radiant faces. Their pictures appeared daily in the gossip columns, and Talia enjoyed her new celebrity, which had not yet infringed on her privacy, since the style and manner of people in Los Angeles was so different from what she was used to in Israel.

  Life seemed so full of delightful opportunities, hospitality, and pleasures, and she resolved to thoroughly enjoy what was so generously offered. Jonathan would not believe that she just enjoyed everything, thinking only of herself... Jonathan always teased her good-naturedly, for her exaggerated sense of responsibility, “Talin, Talin, you’ve never ceased to be a girl scout...”

  And what will Ditty say when she tells her that she went out to dinner with Jonathan Douglas? That she entertained Goldie Hawn and Barbara Streisand, and chatted with Bette Midler as if they had been schoolgirls together? Of-course, she soon found out that these celebrities were not really different from herself or from Ditty, and yet, she could not deny that the glamour these people exuded fascinated her. Talia was intoxicated by the sweet smell of fame and glory that surrounded her.

  Still, with all the giddiness and excitement, Talia continued to honor her commitment to the burgeoning Israeli film industry. In her mind’s eye, her projected movie was becoming a reality - it was an historical musical about the Hassidic movement’s immigration and settlement in Safed, a grandiose extravaganza that Marvin Goldstone was scheduled to direct. A wonderful score had already been composed by Roy Shahar, a rising star in the music scene in Israel, whose training in classical music and his varied, original scores had rendered him hard to classify. The popular national singer, Ari Amiel, had graciously and enthusiastically consented to sing the lead. Talia’s task was to obtain financial backing for the production, and when that task was completed, to manage and oversee the actual production. Thanks to her many contacts, she had already starting obtaining the necessary funds, but a huge sum was still needed before shooting could start. Marvin encouraged and helped her making contacts with the right people, but he had not yet made up his mind to direct the movie. Talia did not pressure him; she did not expect him to do more than he was willing to do of his own accord. To some extent, she wanted to prove to him that she was independent and capable enough to solve her problems by herself.

  Her life was now a collection of hectic moments; her work, her love life, and the incessant social activity consumed her time and her energy. She had entrusted the care of her children to Pilar and had almost forgotten about them. Even the arrival of Na’ama for Hanukah break did not make her change her plans. The child’s hurt eyes pierced her, but it was only a short time before she continued the race. Talia and Marvin rushed from party to party, from ball to ball, while Na’ama stayed at home, silently yearning for her mother’s attention. She never expressed her disappointment and her solitude in words. After a week’s stay, she went back to Israel with full suitcases and an empty heart.

  The last wave goodbye at the airport, as Na’ama departed, just before she disappeared from sight, tore Talia’s heart. For the first time, she was beset by remorse and guilt. Had she realized that Hanukah vacation was so close to Christmas, she would not have invited Na’ama to come for a visit just then; she tried to justify herself, admitting that her conduct was inexcusable, unpardonable. In a rare moment of truth, she recognized that she may have failed as a mother and even strayed from the right path. And yet she refused to acknowledge the shallowness, the hypocrisy and the fickleness of the glamorous glittery life that she had been leading in Marvin’s shadow, wallowing as she did in the stardust that surrounded his existence.

  Her closets were brimming with evening gowns, elegant gowns, elegant suits, and dozens of pairs of shoes that she had bought for the numerous receptions, dances, and dinner parties. She enjoyed her reputation as one of the most elegant women in town.

  Pilar and Mercedes looked at her accusingly, but she preferred to ignore the messages concealed in their eyes, and continued to be dazzled by stardust and to meet with famous movie stars and influential producers; she was intoxicated by the sensation of coming from a tiny country into the center of the world.

  Los Angeles newspapers like the original, new celebrity, so different from the local variety, who so effortlessly won the heart of the famous director. Her pictures were everywhere: the accentuated cat’s eyes, the flowing auburn hair, wearing expensive business suits or glamorous night gowns on her way to a limousine driven by Marvin Gladstone’s chauffeur.

  Talia was not yet fully aware of the effect of her lifestyle on her children or, if she was, she had put that awareness out of her mind. Udi and Michal did not cry, did not complain, and did not make her life difficult in any way. Small children are very good at getting a parent’s attention, but Talia’s children were very well behaved, and because they did not protest and did not say anything out loud, Talia continued to repress all thoughts of guilt. She convinced herself that her children were in the most loving maternal hands, and that even if she had neglected them lately, it was only a temporary constraint, until she was fully settled in the city and found her proper place in the social scene.

  Marvin and Talia returned from an inordinately long dinner at Roselyn’s cafe. Marvin flopped into bed, exhausted as he always was in the middle of shooting a film, and fell asleep instantly, while Talia stared at the ceiling, bubbling with unexpended energy. This internal turmoil was not new. Every once in a while, she was assaulted by doubts and a sense of dissatisfaction that, until now, she managed to contain and repress. But shy was s
he engulfed by this wave of disquiet tonight, on a perfectly innocent night, a few hours after a most pleasant dinner, when it was clear that she had finally been accepted by Marvin’s family and his circle of friends?

  She continued to stare at the ceiling, careful not to change position and wake up Marvin. Maybe it’s just a passing mood, she told herself soothingly; if she leaves it alone, it will go away.

  But sleep was further and further away. The worrying thoughts formulated themselves into words, and the words formed questions. Is the price worth the damage? And what is she pursuing so avidly, so frantically? She wondered if she was really in love with the man sleeping at her side, or if she was merely fascinated by his image and fame? He was breathing peacefully, and she stroked his curly hair ruefully. He is not to blame for my thoughts, my doubts, my procrastination, she though. He loves me, he cares for me, he wants me to be happy. I love him, I’ve got to love him. She clung to his body, warming herself up, until she roused him. His eyes were closed, but his lips sought hers, parting to meet them in a deep kiss.