Mixed Blessings

by Danielle Steel

  “Why don’t you tell her what you think of her?” Judi encouraged him, and then suddenly three weeks after they started going out, they were engaged. And six months after that, Barbara was standing behind a hedge at the Bel Air Hotel waiting for the signal that would start her wedding.

  “You okay?” Judi scrutinized her, as Barbie stood nervously, hopping from one foot to the other, like a frightened racehorse.

  “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  “Don’t you dare! It took me two hours to do your hair under that veil … I’ll kill you!”

  “Okay, okay … Christ, Judi, I’m too old for this.” She was thirty years old, only one year older than Charlie, but sometimes she felt a thousand years older. But when she wore less makeup, and just pulled her hair back in a braid, she looked younger than he did. But she had seen a lot more of life, and she was a lot more jaded. Only Charlie saw the sweetness and purity beneath her flash. Only he was able to reach a part of her she had been sure was gone forever. He invited her to his apartment for his home-cooked meals, they went for long walks, and he talked about wanting to meet her family, but she only shook her head at that, and she never answered his questions. She didn’t like talking about them, and she said she was never going back to Salt Lake City to see them, but she never explained it. She had been furious one day when two Mormon missionaries had shown up at the apartment she shared with Judi, trying to get her to come back to the Church and move back to Salt Lake City. She had slammed the door on them, and shouted at them never to come back again. She didn’t want any reminders of the life she had left behind in Salt Lake City. All Charlie knew was that she had eight brothers and sisters and about twenty nephews and nieces, but it was obvious to him that something had happened to her there, other than boredom. But she absolutely refused to discuss it.

  He was far more open about his own past. He had been abandoned at birth in a train station, his records said, and had grown up in a series of state orphanages in New Jersey. He had been in several foster homes, and twice was considered for adoption, but he was a nervous child, given to allergies and skin problems, and by the time he was five, he had severe asthma. He outgrew most of it eventually, and the asthma had been in control for years, but by the time it was, he was too old for anyone to adopt him. He left the state home at eighteen, took a bus to L.A., and had been there for eleven years. He had put himself through college at night, and his dream now was to go to business school, which would allow him to get a better job and support the family he longed for. For him, finding Barbie was like a dream come true. All he wanted now was to marry her, give her a good home, and fill it with children who looked just like her. He had said that to her once, and she had laughed at him.

  “We’d be a lot better off if they looked like you!” She was a pretty girl, with an amazing figure, but she had never thought much of her looks, or herself, until she met Charlie. He was so kind to her, so protective, so unlike the men she had known, and yet sometimes she still wished he were a little bit more exciting. She had wanted to go out with an actor when she came to L.A., maybe even someone famous. And she had fallen for Charlie instead. And there were still times when she wondered if she should wait for her dream prince, or at least a famous actor. She had taken Charlie shopping to buy new clothes, and tried to introduce him to the latest styles to jazz him up a little bit, but in the end, she had had to agree with him, that on him they just looked silly. He was just a plain-clothes kind of guy. His hair stuck up when he left it too long, so he had to cut it short, and he never got a suntan, he just fried, and after that he blistered.

  “I’m not a glamorous type, you understand,” he had explained to her seriously one night, over a dinner he had cooked for her. It was his specialty, cannelloni and osso buco and a big tossed green salad. He had actually learned to make it in one of his foster homes, he explained to her, and her heart went out to him when he said it. There were times when she really loved him, and other times when she wasn’t quite as sure, and she wondered. Was he right for her? Really, really right? Or was he just generous and nice and convenient? She knew that no harm would come to her with him. But neither would any glamour or excitement.

  Nothing was ever clear-cut in her life, the choices were always so damn difficult, the prices to be paid so high, the risks so great … except with Charlie. He was offering her everything, everything she had thought she wanted years before … or should now. Security, a nice place to live, a nice guy to take care of her, no worries, no headaches, no terror that she couldn’t pay the rent this month, no fear that things would go from bad to worse again and she’d have to get another job as a showgirl. What she really wanted was an acting career, and the agents who’d talked to her said she had talent. All she needed now was a break. And she wasn’t sure if Charlie would get in the way of that. If she married him, could she still work? Would he object to her career? He said he wouldn’t, but he also talked about kids all the time, and that wasn’t in the cards for her, not for now, not with him, not yet, and maybe even never. She didn’t say that to him, of course, but what if her big break came? What if she got a regular part on a weekly show, or even a big part in an important movie? Then where would she be with her little life? But if the big break didn’t come … at least she wouldn’t be waiting on tables. And maybe it was the wrong way to look at things. She felt guilty about it sometimes, but she had to think about herself. She had learned that lesson a long time ago, right in the bosom of her own family. She had learned a lot of lessons from them, lessons she didn’t care to learn again, or even remember.

  It was hard not to be swayed by Charlie’s constancy, his adoration, his devotion, his just plain decency, and in the end Barbie decided that she really did love him. But now, standing here, it was terrifying all over again. What if she was doing the wrong thing? What if they hated each other in two years, or if it didn’t even take that long? “Then what’ll I do?” she whispered to Judi.

  “It’s a little late to worry about that now, isn’t it?” Judi said, smoothing down her red lace dress. She had endless legs, and breasts that were exploding out of her cleavage. She had had implants done in Vegas by a doctor she knew there who gave her a great deal on the surgery, and everyone she knew thought they were terrific. Except Barbie, who had thought buying boobs was silly, because her own were big, firm, and real. But hell, Judi told herself, from a distance, who could tell the difference?

  Barbie had a sensational figure, with her full bust in sharp contrast to her tiny waist, which was so small that Charlie could put his hands around it and almost touch his fingers. She wasn’t tall, but she had shapely legs. She was a striking-looking girl, and even in a burlap bag, she would somehow have managed to look sexy. She just did, no matter what she wore. And now in the short, tight, white satin wedding gown, she was an overwhelming contrast of the innocent and the erotic.

  “Do you think my dress is too tight?” She looked nervously at Judi again. She felt as though they’d been waiting forever. She didn’t know why they couldn’t just have gone to City Hall, but Charlie had insisted he wanted a “real” wedding.

  This wedding had meant everything to him, so she’d gone along with it for his sake. She would have been a lot happier spending the weekend in Reno. But Charlie had planned everything, and invited all his friends. They were having sixty guests, and she knew this was the fanciest hotel in L.A.—except maybe the Beverly Hills Hotel, she had told him, but he had insisted this one was even better. They’d chosen the least expensive menu, and the simplest plan, but he’d wanted their wedding here, even if it wiped out most of his savings. “You deserve it,” he’d said to Barbie.

  “Your dress is fine,” Judi reassured her, and she honestly thought the other girl looked terrific. Scared, but very pretty. “Everything’s gonna be okay, kid. Just relax.” She was beginning to wonder what the delay was, and then finally Charlie’s best man appeared, and the music began. Charlie had hired a bass, a violinist, and an electric piano for the oc
casion.

  They played “Here Comes the Bride,” and Judi looked toward the little gazebo that had been set up for the occasion. Charlie had found a minister somewhere, and he hadn’t asked Barbie too many questions about being a Mormon, so she had finally agreed to let him do the wedding.

  And then Mark, the best man, offered Barbie his arm, and looked down at her with a fatherly smile. He was twice Charlie’s age, and heavyset. He had been Charlie’s supervisor at work for two years, and in some ways, he was almost like his father. He was still a good-looking man, although he was overweight, and little rivers of perspiration were running down the sides of his face from the neatly combed gray hair at his temples.

  He looked very serious as he bent toward Barbie just before they began their walk toward the gazebo.

  “Good luck, Barbara … Everything’s going to be just fine.” He patted her hand, and she tried not to let herself think of her father.

  “Thanks, Mark.” He had agreed to give the bride away, and be best man. He had also given them all their champagne, because his brother-in-law knew a wholesaler with a terrific source in the Napa Valley. He wanted everything to be right for them. He was divorced himself, and had two daughters, one married, and the other in college.

  They started off down the aisle, and Barbara tried not to think of what lay ahead, the wedding, or the years of commitment. And then suddenly there he was … Charlie … looking so sweet and innocent and young, with his blue eyes and red hair and sweet smile. He was wearing a white dinner jacket with a white carnation on the lapel, and he looked like a kid who had borrowed the jacket from his father for the senior prom. It was hard to be afraid of him, or of committing her life to him. And as Mark squeezed her hand encouragingly, she suddenly realized that all her fears were incredibly foolish. No harm would come to her as Charlie’s wife. She was doing the right thing, and suddenly she knew it.

  “I love you,” he whispered as she stood at his side, and as she looked at him, she realized that she really loved him. He was doing something wonderful for her, he was giving her a beautiful new life, and offering to protect her forever. No one had ever done anything like that for her, and she knew, as she looked at him, that he would never fail her. She was suddenly sorry for all the doubts she’d had, all the fears, all the times she had secretly thought she could do better. He was just right for her, a good friend, a good man, a good husband, and she had been a fool to want more. She was thirty years old, and Prince Charming was obviously otherwise engaged somewhere on another planet. Charlie Winwood was enough of a prince for her, she didn’t need more than that, didn’t want more than he had to offer.

  “I love you, Charlie,” she whispered to him as he put the ring on her finger, and when he kissed her, he cried, and she held him close to her, wanting to make up to him for all the loneliness in his life and all the sorrow.

  “I love you so much, Barb …” There were no words to tell her how much he loved her.

  “I promise, I’ll be a good wife … I really will …”

  “I know you will, sweet girl.” He smiled at her, and later he toasted her with Mark’s champagne, and then led her out on the temporary dance floor. They had set a small dance floor out on the lawn, and there was a buffet near the bar, just beyond the music.

  It was a terrific party and everyone had a good time, particularly the bride and groom, both of whom drank handsomely of Mark’s champagne, as did all the other guests. And Mark seemed to be having a good time, dancing with Judi. Everyone was in high spirits by the time the band started playing things like “When the Saints Go Marching In” and “Hava Nagila.”

  Afterward, they played some slow music again, to get everyone calmed down and cooled off. They played “Moon River,” and Mark asked the bride to dance, while Charlie danced with Judi.

  “You’re a beautiful bride, Barb,” Mark told her as they danced slowly around the floor. There were a million stars in the sky, and it was warm. It was a magical evening. “You two are going to have a wonderful life,” he said with certainty. “And a lot of gorgeous kids to show for it,” he announced with assurance.

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked, smiling at him. He was a nice man, and a good friend.

  “Because I’m so old, and I know so much. And I know how much Charlie wants children.” She knew it, too, but she had already told Charlie that she wanted to wait a few years, so she could pursue her career as an actress. He wasn’t thrilled with that idea, but they had both agreed to talk about it later. He didn’t know it yet, but having kids was the one thing that really scared her. And even Mark talking about it now gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “May I cut in?” Charlie smoothly interrupted Mark, and handed Judi over to him, as he made off with his bride for the last dances of the evening. They had both had a lot to drink, but Barbie felt as though she were in a dream, and all of the people there seemed so happy. “Did you have a good time?” he asked as he nuzzled her neck, feeling her breasts pressing against him. Every time he touched her it just drove him crazy, and she loved to have a good time. She never said no, she never objected to anything he wanted to do, she was a good sport, and a hell of a sexy woman. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world as he twirled his bride around the dance floor.

  “I had a great time.” She grinned happily at him. “What about you?”

  “Best wedding I ever had.” He smiled at her. They were almost the same height, and he looked her in the eye, feeling as though he owned the world.

  “That’s not saying much.” She pretended to pout, and he pulled her even closer.

  “You know how happy I am, Barb … at least I hope you do. For me, this is the dream of a lifetime.” It was the beginning of everything he never had. The love, the warmth, the home, the family, everything he had so desperately wanted.

  “I know,” she whispered, and her head swam dizzily as he kissed her. All she could think of now was lying on the beach at Waikiki with him. They were leaving for Hawaii in the morning on a great package deal. And they were spending their wedding night in Charlie’s apartment. They had talked about spending their wedding night at the Bel Air, but they just couldn’t afford it, and she didn’t care. She already knew that she would never, ever forget this night or this moment.

  In Santa Barbara that night, there was a star-filled sky, too, as twenty-five friends stood silently watching Pilar Graham and Bradford Coleman kiss in the moonlight. There was a long silence and then they turned to look at their friends, with a startled, happy look, and everyone laughed and cheered and applauded. Marina Goletti, the judge who had performed the ceremony, declared them man and wife, and they were instantly surrounded by well-wishers.

  “What took you so long?” a friend of Brad’s teased.

  “We were practicing,” Pilar said in a dignified voice, as the white silk Grecian gown molded her long, lithe figure. She swam and exercised every day, and Bradford liked to tell her that she had the body of a young girl. She was a beautiful woman and she was proud of the thick, straight gray hair that hung to her shoulders. It had been almost white since her early twenties, and she had worn it that way for almost twenty years now.

  “Thirteen years is a long time to practice!”

  One of her law partners, Alice Jackson, whispered to her, “We’re glad you finally figured it out and married Brad.” She smiled.

  “Yeah.” Her other partner, Bruce Hemmings, added, “I know, you two just didn’t want any scandal now that Brad’s been made a judge.”

  “You got that right.” Brad’s deep voice rang out just next to her, as he gave Pilar’s shoulders a squeeze. “I didn’t want anyone accusing her of sleeping with the judge to get special favors.”

  “As though you’d be that good to me!” Pilar teased right back, as she leaned her body against him. Everything about them suggested the comfortable and intimate and familiar.

  And the interesting truth was that they had been archenemies for three years, after Pilar
had graduated from law school and moved to Santa Barbara. She’d gotten a job as a public defender and he’d been a prosecutor, and it seemed as though every major criminal case that came up pitted them against each other. She hated his ideas, his politics, his style, his relentless way of hammering at a case until he won, or simply wore down the jury. And more than once, their tempers had flared and they’d had raging battles in the hall outside the courtroom. They’d been called to order by the bench more than once, and Pilar had almost spent a night in jail for contempt of court when she’d called Brad a bastard in front of a judge once. But Brad had been so amused by her attack that time that he had compounded matters even more by inviting her to dinner as soon as court was recessed.

  “Are you insane? Did you hear what I said?” she had asked him as they made their way out of the courtroom. She was still trembling with anger over his style in trying a rape case.

  “You still have to eat. And your client is guilty and you know it.” She did know it, and she was uncomfortable, but someone still had to defend him, to the best of his or her ability, and that was her job, whether Brad Coleman liked it or not.

  “I’m not going to discuss my client’s innocence or guilt with you, Mr. Coleman. That’s improper. Is that why you want me to have dinner with you? So you can get me to admit something you’ll use against me?” She was furious with him, and she didn’t give a damn if he was attractive. He was the Cary Grant of the prosecutor’s office. He was in his late forties, had snow-white hair, and all the women in her office talked constantly about how handsome he was, and how sexy. Pilar Graham was not interested in that, not with him. As far as she was concerned, this was strictly business.