Scrambled Babies

by Babe Hayes

  “Sorry, Steve. I thought sure—”

  “So did I. Well, screw it!” He yanked the tape out of the player and hurled it against the bricks in the fireplace. It shattered into bits. “When are we meeting with Ollie and the boys for my lynching?”

  “Tomorrow, at ten. We’ll try to work something out, Steve.”

  “Right. Like I just did with Paeton.”

  “Hey, where’s the old Kaselman optimism?”

  Steve’s despair spoke for him. “The old Kaselman optimism went out the door forever with Paeton McPhilomy. Bye, Maury. See you at the funeral.” He hung up.

  #

  Paeton walked numbly away from the Alice house. She had about a twenty-minute walk by herself. After hearing the tape, she couldn’t, in fact, say she had been betrayed. But why did she still feel she had been?

  Did Steve ask to marry her? Did he say “I want you to be my bride forever”?

  And even if he had, would she have said yes?

  Paeton decided she had been betrayed, not only by Steve, but by life as well. Hadn’t she worked hard? Hadn’t she established morals? And followed them? Hadn’t she given of herself? And what had she reaped in return? Betrayal!

  Had life offered her true love, but only at the price of her career, her security, her beliefs?

  Paeton wanted a lover. But she also wanted what Kevin had given her. A family, a home, a chance to create her fictions. Could Steve give her that? The more important question was: Did he want that too?

  Or did he want a wild, crazy, upbeat relationship that eventually would be destined to burn out and then—? She might as well be with Fred. But she knew she could no longer ask Fred for anything outside business.

  She looked back and saw the bridges she had burned. She looked forward and saw the bridges that lay ahead. All of them like those bridges in jungle-adventure movies, made of vines and rotting wood, swaying precariously over rivers full of jagged rocks and swarming piranhas.

  She reached her hotel suite and opened the door. She walked in to see there was a message on her machine. She pushed the play button.

  “Paeton, this is Fred. Christian called. You have to meet with him tomorrow at ten. His office. I don’t think this is good news. Please call me about strategy.”

  The beginning of the end. She would not go back merely to where she had been. No, she would go back further. A lump formed in her throat. She would have to work herself all the way up again. She would have to write another The Sky Streaks of Black. But would anyone offer her another chance to write a screenplay? It would have been so easy to collapse to the floor and cry.

  If only she could go back to the airport and not have her eyes meet Steve Kaselman’s eyes. If only she had missed that trip to Venus and Mars—she would be a normal person now. Well, not entirely normal. She would still be a celebrity of sorts. People would know her. People would ask for her autograph.

  But now, even though she must forgo any future trips with Steve to uncharted planets, she was destined to be forever haunted by the knowledge of what those trips could do to her.

  “Normal” could never be applied to Paeton McPhilomy ever again!

  Chapter 14

  Paeton met Fred outside Christian’s office. They hadn’t seen each other since Fred offered her the ring. Fred did not look her directly in the eye. She didn’t blame him. She had led him on. Paeton had been cruel, and that was another burden she would have to deal with for the rest of her life. Fred didn’t deserve such ugly treatment.

  She kissed him apologetically on the cheek. “Sorry, Fred. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “I’ve gotten over it. I was stupid to believe in the possibility in the first place. I’m in the romance business, for god’s sake. I should know better.”

  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Fred.”

  “Right. I know.” He cleared his throat and stood up taller. “Listen, I’m going to do my best to save your screenplay contract, but you have to help me. What have you got?”

  Paeton looked down. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a help. Five pages.”

  “Five—” Fred’s voice hit a high pitch. He closed his mouth. He finished calmly, “Five pages? I thought you told me—”

  “I know. I started over. And over and over.” She paused to gulp in some air. “I would understand if you wanted to dump me. I don’t need an agent, I need a social worker.” Paeton looked down at the insignificant number of pages on her lap. “I messed up badly, right?”

  Fred couldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry, Paeton.”

  “Mr. Valverdi will see you now.” The secretary nodded at the door to Christian’s office.

  Fred got up slowly. “Thank you.”

  Paeton rose and followed Fred into her producer’s office to listen to what she assumed would be the last rites for her screenplay-writing career.

  #

  Why is success such a long, hard road up, but failure such a quick, easy trip down?

  Paeton sat pondering a blank computer screen. Blank was the word for her entire life. Steve was out of her life. Fred was never really an option. Valverdi had fired her—or as he had put it a week ago, “I’m relieving you of your screenplay-writing duties.” Her best-selling book had run its course, and Velvet Arrow, her publisher, was screaming for her next one. And all she had was blank. So far blank was the best she could do.

  Romance was the worst subject she could imagine. But she had never written murder mysteries. If she could, something dealing with a slow death would be an appropriate topic right now.

  It was four-thirty in the morning. She surveyed the hotel bedroom. She certainly didn’t need and couldn’t afford to be in L.A. anymore. Her New York apartment, her home really, seemed like the place to go to get her life back in order. Yes, she would start getting organized in the morning.

  Silly thought—morning was already here. She gave up trying to get any writing accomplished and went into the other room to turn on the TV.

  “In Your Face and Steedly Black are back in the news. The tabloid and its star reporter have issued an open challenge to Paeton McPhilomy and Steve Kaselman to choose their babies correctly on the Royale Jones television show. The article states that even though a national TV audience was unable to distinguish the infants, the parents should be able to. Further, Steedly Black has asserted he knows the children better than the parents do, and he will correctly identify the babies by gender on the show, predicting the parents won’t.

  “Looking into international news, the Palestine—”

  Paeton clicked off the TV. Her stomach started rolling. If people thought she was going to defend her reputation in another television “courtroom,” they were crazy. She dreaded the inevitable phone call from Fred. She dreaded involvement with Steve again. She dreaded the next moment! Every time she tried to disentangle herself from her recent past, no one would let her.

  She went into the bathroom to take something to quiet her stomach. As she swallowed the chalky, pink liquid, she thought, I need more of a break than going home to New York. I can’t write word one. Velvet Arrow will be putting my book in paperback, probably be selling it overseas. I’ll have some money. Maybe what I should do is take a vacation. Yes, I need to get away. Get far way from Los Angeles and— She decided she would call her travel agent after she tried to get some sleep.

  As she was starting to doze off, she bolted straight up in bed. This time her heart was rolling. It told her she didn’t need simply a vacation; she needed to go away somewhere permanently! Leave all her entanglements behind. France, Italy, England, somewhere far away. She would live frugally. She could get a job teaching English or working in a bookstore. Her children could do worse than grow up abroad. This was it! The answer had been right in front of her all along. She had no reason to stay here. And if she could get her life under control, she could write from anywhere in the world, thanks to electronic wizardry.

  This idea gave her great comfort because she felt she was taking ch
arge again. As she pulled the sheet under her chin, she wondered how Steve would react to Black’s challenge. Although Steve had called her many times after playing the tape, she had not returned any of his calls. She figured he would stop calling eventually. And even though she had been tempted to return his calls, she knew better. Yes, she would take a couple of days to close down her L.A. activities and then be on her way.

  But would Europe be far enough away to escape from Steve Kaselman?

  #

  “You’re where?”

  “I’m at the airport.”

  “You’re doing what?” She could tell Fred was beside himself.

  “I’m going to spend a year in England. It’ll give me a chance to study the area for my next novel. It’s going to be a historical.”

  “You don’t write historical novels,” Fred sputtered. “Paeton, don’t do this. Give yourself the weekend to think about it. I’ll come to the hotel and we can talk.” He lowered his voice. “I know what you’re doing. You can’t run. You don’t have to respond to Steedly Black, but you can’t run.”

  “Fred, I’ve made up my mind. There’s nothing you can say—”

  Fred interrupted her, his tone stern. “You’ll never write another book if you run, Paeton.”

  Paeton knew Fred was right. But all she could think about was getting away. Far, far away. It was her only chance to escape losing complete control of her life. To erase the purple magic-marker heart from her soul.

  Paeton nervously kept checking her watch. She wished the plane was leaving this minute. She couldn’t just hang up on Fred. Why had she called him in the first place? Was it because he deserved that much after all he had done for her? Or was she hoping someone could find some magical way to keep her from leaving?

  But she didn’t want to change her mind. Fred usually could persuade her to, but this time she would not be swayed. She had to get away.

  “Fred, I need something to eat before the plane leaves. Thanks for everything. I’ll keep in touch. I’ll work out the details with Velvet Arrow later. You’re the best friend a person could have, Fred.”

  “Right, best friend. You know you can always come to me for anything, Paeton. I’ll always be here for you.”

  “I know, Fred. Thank you. Bye.”

  She hung up.

  Without warning, she heard Madison’s delighted scream. “Steve!”

  Paeton didn’t want to believe it. Coming toward her, bigger than life, was Steve Kaselman. As beautiful as ever. As perfect as ever. His eyes, certainly, bearing as many perils as ever.

  She tried to quell the uprising of emotion that swept through her at the sight of him. She was determined to appear aloof. To avoid any connection at all costs.

  But it was too late. Her body already ached for his touch, and her heart concurred.

  “Madison! Paeton! Kelsey! What are you guys doing here?”

  Paeton couldn’t bring words to her lips.

  Madison jumped in. “We’re going to England. How come you don’t see us anymore, Steve?”

  “England?”

  Paeton could feel his eyes searching for contact. Intimate contact. She avoided those demons.

  When Paeton remained wordless, Steve spoke again. “I’ve, uh, been really busy, Maddy. But I’d love to see you some more.”

  “Hi, Steve. What are you doing here?” Paeton finally found her tongue.

  “Hi, Paeton. I was going to ask you the same thing. But I guess Maddy already answered it. England, huh?”

  Paeton felt the purple magic-marker heart begin to grow inside her. Why didn’t he take her in his arms? Couldn’t he see she was his?

  She gathered herself to speak. “Yes. I’m, uh, we’re, I have to go to London for some research on my next book.”

  Steve’s eyes told her he wasn’t buying any of it. “Oh, really? For how long?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Paeton stammered.

  “Well, I’m off to do a game in Chicago. Then I’m coming back to beat the pants off Steedly Black. The network is giving me a last chance to redeem myself. If I come out okay against Black, I get to stay and play with the big boys. If not, it’s Podunk, U.S.A. I hope you get back in time for us to meet the son of—uh, old Black as a team and show him how wrong he is.”

  Through a flannel tongue, Paeton managed, “I-I’m not coming back for that. I may stay, oh, a year or so. I’m not sure. I have a lot of research to do.”

  Why didn’t he stop looking at her that way? As if he didn’t believe a word she uttered. “Right. A lot of work. But shouldn’t you come back for this? We’d make a great team, you know. Against Black, I mean.”

  Paeton’s knees were close to buckling. She had to get away from Steve, or she would run to his arms.

  She checked her watch. “Oh, wow! Is it that time already? We’ll miss our plane.” She bent down to pick up Kelsey. She took Madison by the hand.

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Paeton was finally caught by Steve’s eyes.

  “Excuse me?” she mumbled, hooked by the demons.

  “This is exactly how we were some weeks ago. Both at an airport. Both bound for different destinations. Only then we still hadn’t bumped into each other.” His eyes threatened to transport her. But they held a sadness she had never seen before. “Of course, we did bump into each other, and—” His words seemed to catch on something and he paused. He swallowed, then continued. “Oh, well, we bump into each other at an airport, we un-bump into each other at an airport.” His laugh was empty. Steve extended his hand. “See you, Paeton McPhilomy. I wish you all the best—that’ll be without any jocks, I’ll bet. I only want to say it’s been fun bumping into you.”

  This time his laugh held gentleness. His laugh and his eyes were playing havoc with Paeton’s determination to break away. All the surfaces of her body felt hot as Steve’s hand dangled in front of her like a forbidden fruit—so desirable—so devastating. The hand that clutched Madison’s froze. She hung on for dear life.

  “Won’t you at least shake hands? I’d still like to be friends. There are mail services and telephones all over the world. And for all I know, I may get an assignment in London. I could look you up for old time’s sake.” Steve edged his hand closer to Paeton.

  Her breathing was quick and shallow. Her heart was mocking her. She felt she was about to leap from a great precipice. To her amazement, she felt her hand slip from Madison’s and slowly move toward—

  And then she felt Steve’s hand holding hers! Her heart danced out of her body and played between their eyes. It was as if his hand enclosed her soul. Run! Run, Paeton! Run for your life!

  “Can I shake hands too, Steve?” Madison broke the spell.

  Paeton was able to free her hand.

  “Sure, Maddy.” Steve took Madison’s small hand. “See you, Maddy.”

  “See you, Steve. You can visit us, right?”

  “Right, Maddy.”

  Paeton’s feet were back on the ground. She took Madison’s hand again. “Come on, Maddy.” She turned to Steve, avoiding his eyes. “Fred will know where I am.”

  Paeton began hurrying away. She heard footsteps close behind her. She peered over her shoulder to see Steve keeping up with them. She picked up her pace. She was almost running now, trying to leave him behind. She was embarrassed at her obvious panic. “Don’t miss your flight,” she called back to him.

  And then the sound of Steve’s footsteps faded away. She knew he had stopped trying to keep up with her. But his eyes burned deeper and deeper into her. How could they always do that?

  Why couldn’t I have never bumped into him?

  #

  Steve watched Paeton disappear into the crowd. He wanted to call out “Okay, I’ll marry you, if that’s what it takes. I’ll do anything, but don’t go—don’t leave me!”

  But he didn’t.

  A few minutes later he was on his own flight. Steve felt as if all the blood had been drained from his body as he listened to the whine of the jet engines of the plan
e winging its way to Chicago. Everything was flat and black and white, like images on a 1947 television screen. The airline food was even more tasteless than usual. He had made the mistake of watching Paeton’s plane to New York disappear into the misty horizon.

  He couldn’t believe it! She was really gone. He knew he would never see her smile again. Feel her touch again. Smell her perfume again. Hear her laugh or speak his name again. Call me Kaselman again!

  He knew he would never try to reach her. Even if he did, she would never respond anyway.

  Gone!

  Paeton McPhilomy, the most precious thing in his life, had given him a once-in-a-lifetime chance for supreme happiness, and Steve Kaselman, stupid jock that he was, had let the clock run out!

  #

  Steve groaned audibly as he sat down for breakfast. He had done the Pirates game and was back in Los Angeles, waiting to go up against Steedly Black. “I’m hearing a lot of bad sounds coming from you lately.”

  Steve laughed self-consciously in agreement. He knew by “lately” Greta meant “A.P.”—after Paeton. “Yeah, I used to do that only for a few days after a game.”

  Greta walked into the room drying her hands on a dish towel. “I never saw two people more in love and less in sync than you and Paeton.”

  “Isn’t that the truth. She’s on her way to London.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell you. By accident I saw her off when I was catching my plane to Denver.”

  “When is she coming back?”

  Steve could feel a huge emptiness closing in on him. “She says about a year, I guess. I don’t know.” He set his coffee cup down with a scowl. The coffee had no taste, similar to the airline food.

  Greta sat down at the table. “She’s not going to take on Black with you?”

  “She says not.” For a moment he remembered the feeling of Paeton’s hand in his, and he yearned to feel it again. No woman had ever reached him to his core. “She wanted to get married.”