The Wedding

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The Wedding Page 33

by Danielle Steel


  “You never will.” She kissed him as they headed across the dunes back to the house. She liked the idea of having it for her children one day, especially without his mother. “You still look preppie,” she teased him.

  “How am I supposed to look?”

  “Just the way you do.” She kissed him again, and saw his mother watching disapprovingly from the porch. She seemed to have only one speed, and it wasn't happy. And Allegra had noticed that being around her seemed to put a strain on both of them, he because he felt he had to carry the ball for everyone, and she because she thought she had to win Mrs. Hamilton's approval.

  “Be careful you don't burn,” she warned Allegra, with her fair skin, as they helped themselves to lemonade on the porch.

  “Thank you,” Allegra said politely. “I use sunscreen.”

  She watched her son's fiancée as Allegra sat in a comfortable porch swing with the cool drink and sipped it.

  “I hear your entire family is in show business … Allegra,” she said as though she couldn't believe it.

  “Except for my brother.” She smiled pleasantly at her future mother-in-law. “He's in pre-med at Stanford.” It was the first thing that brought a genuine smile to her lips since they'd arrived on Friday.

  “My father was a doctor. Actually, almost my entire family, except my mother, of course. They were all physicians.”

  “Scott wants to be an orthopedic surgeon. The rest of us seem to be trapped in ‘show business,’ as you put it. My mother writes, directs, and produces. She's enormously talented. My father is a movie producer. And I'm an entertainment lawyer.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” She stared at her as though Allegra had come from another planet and only appeared to be human.

  “It means I hold a lot of hands, and get a lot of phone calls at four in the morning.” She looked shocked by what Allegra had said, and aimed her next question at her.

  “Is everyone that rude in show business?”

  “Only when they get arrested,” she said matter-of-factly, enjoying the shock value of what she had just said. Mrs. Hamilton deserved it. She deserved a lot of things, Allegra had decided by then, most of all a good shaking. She was the least hospitable, least pleasant, least warm woman she had ever met. And she felt sorry for Jeff now. Clearly, he had only his father's genes and none of his mother's.

  “Do a great many of your clients get arrested?” She was wide-eyed, and even Jeff was amused. But Allegra wasn't.

  “Some. That's why they need me. I bail them out of jail, write their wills, do their contracts, reorganize their lives, help them with their problems. It's very interesting and I like it.”

  “Most of her clients are very big movie stars, Mom. You'd be impressed to know who.” But he didn't offer, it seemed more exotic not to.

  “I'm sure it's very interesting work. And you have a sister as well?”

  Allegra nodded, thinking of poor Sam and her big stomach and the baby she'd have to give up in August. “Yes, she's seventeen. She's still in school,” she said, not and she models occasionally, and gets knocked up. Allegra almost laughed at that one. “She's going to UCLA in the fall, as a drama major.”

  “It sounds like an intriguing family.” There was a brief silence for a moment then, as the porch swing squeaked, and the next question almost knocked Allegra right off it. She had never expected her to be so blatant. “Tell me, Allegra, are you Jewish?” Jeff looked like he was going to fall right out of his chair as he watched Allegra answer.

  “Actually, no,” Allegra said coolly. “I'm Episcopalian. But my father is, and I know a lot about it. Did you want to know something about Judaism?” she asked politely, but Mrs. Hamilton wasn't buying. She was a shrewd old cow and she didn't give a damn if Allegra liked her. It was horrifying to Jeff as he listened.

  “I didn't think you were”—she compounded matters further with absolutely no concern—” you don't look it.”

  “Neither do you,” Allegra told her calmly. “Are you?” Jeff almost choked, and he had to turn away so his mother couldn't see him laugh. She looked totally shocked, for once. No one had ever asked her that question.

  “Of course not. Hamilton} Are you mad?”

  “I don't think so. Why not?” Allegra seemed totally matter-of-fact, and his mother still didn't get it, but Jeff did. And he was mortified.

  “I take it your mother's not Jewish then,” she pressed on, relieved at least that her eventual grandchildren wouldn't be tainted. But even at that, she was half Jewish because of her father.

  “No, and neither is her father,” Jeff stepped in, and decided to put his mother out of her agony, and theirs from listening to her. He felt as though he were betraying Allegra, but for his own sake, he had to. “Allegra's real father is a doctor in Boston named Charles Stanton.”

  “Why in heaven don't you use his name then?” She stared at Allegra in disapproval.

  “Because I hate him. And I haven't seen him in years,” Allegra said calmly. Four years of therapy had done something. It was the most disgusting conversation she had ever participated in, and she was about to say so. “Frankly, after what I've seen in my family after all these years, I'd want to bring my children up Jewish. My brother and sister are, and I think it's a wonderful thing for anyone.” Jeff thought he was going to have to revive his mother, and he shot Allegra a look, which she gave right back to him. He had sold out just to shut her up, and he knew it. But his eyes said, okay, okay, but you know I didn't mean it the way it sounded. But she was going to give him a hard time about it anyway. His mother was not only stiff and unpleasant, with ice water in her veins, she was also anti-Semitic. How in hell had Jeff even turned out human?

  “I assume you're joking,” she said coldly, and changed the subject, and they both let her. A little while later, Allegra and Jeff went upstairs and changed for dinner. They went to their own rooms, but as soon as he was dressed, and could slip out of his room unobserved, he went to Allegra in the guest room.

  “Before you hit me over the head with a chair, I want to apologize. I know I sold out, just to keep her quiet. I always forget how limited she is about things like that. Hell, she belongs to a club where they haven't let Jews in for two hundred years. To her, that's important.”

  “It was important to Hitler too, and his friends.” “This is different. It's petty and stupid, and ‘social.’ She thinks it makes her aristocratic to hate everyone who's not like her. It doesn't mean shit. And you know I don't feel that way. I don't care if you bring our kids up Jewish or Buddhist. I love you, whatever your name is. It's going to be Hamilton anyway pretty soon, so why worry about it?” His mother made him desperately uncomfortable, and she could see it. She actually felt sorry for him, and she wasn't nearly as mad as she knew she should be, on Simon's behalf. It was mostly pathetic.

  “How did you ever stand it here, Jeff? She's not exactly open or warm, or easy to deal with.”

  “She used to be,” he tried to defend her, “or at least a little bit more anyway. She got all closed up when my father died—she was miserable without him.” But Allegra could never imagine her much more open than she was now. She was a viper.

  “Weren't you lonely being with her?” Allegra couldn't imagine how he stood it.

  “Sometimes. One gets used to it. Her whole family was like that. They're all gone now.”

  “What did they do when they got together, make ice cubes?”

  “She's not as bad as all that,” he said, zipping up Allegra's black linen dress, just as his mother knocked, and he knew he shouldn't be there. He slipped into the bathroom after signaling Allegra not to give him away. And she opened the door to his mother, who had come to tell her dinner was served, and perhaps to atone for her earlier comments, she told Allegra she looked very pretty. The truth was she liked her much better now that she knew her real name wasn't Steinberg.

  Allegra followed her downstairs to dinner, and Jeff seemed to appear from nowhere. And miraculously, they survived the
dinner, mostly by staying on safe subjects, like art, and European travel, and opera. It was the most boring conversation Allegra thought she'd ever had, and fortunately after dinner, Mrs. Hamilton went to bed. That night they went out to the beach and swam, and then they lay on the sand, and he held her.

  “You haven't had much fun here, have you?”

  She rolled over on her back and sighed in the moonlight. Did he want her to be honest or not? She was quiet while she was deciding.

  “It was different.” It was the most diplomatic thing she could think of.

  “Very different from your family,” he acknowledged. He felt guilty now for having brought her, but she did have to meet his mother. “Your family is so warm and affectionate and outgoing. Everyone's always talking and laughing, and telling some crazy story. I loved being with them from the first moment I met them.” He looked ashamed now of his mother. Even he had to admit that she'd been awful to Allegra. But looking at him, seeing how badly he felt, she suddenly didn't mind it.

  “She reminds me a lot of my father. I don't mean that nastily. But it's that same Eastern, uptight, upper-class inability to feel or express or give. It's all about constant disapproval. He has never approved of me once in my entire life. And it used to kill me. Now I don't care. And she's the same way. I would have to fight and beg and crawl for her approval, if I wanted it, and I'd probably never get it. All the fun for those people is in the withholding. It's a special art. And she's got it down pat, just like he does.”

  “She used to be hard on me too, but nothing like she was with you this weekend. I've never seen her like this,” he confessed, miserable about how his mother had behaved with his fiancée.

  “I'm a big threat,” Allegra reminded him. “I've stolen you away from New York, and now from her. She doesn't have much else.” It was understandable, but it didn't make Allegra like her any better. “Maybe she'll warm up later,” she said, more to cheer Jeff up than because she believed it.

  They slept in the pink guest room together again that night, but this time he set his alarm for seven-thirty, and went back to his own bedroom where he showered and dressed and then packed. And then he woke Allegra. Enough was enough. They had done what they came for. He had booked them on an early flight. And after he got Allegra down to breakfast in her seersucker pantsuit, he told both women that they were leaving. He said they had to be on a one-o'clock flight, which meant they had to leave Southampton at ten o'clock that morning. He explained to them that he had called the director and they were having trouble with the movie, so Jeff had to return early.

  “What's wrong?” Allegra asked, looking upset for him. She had slept like a baby, and she felt resilient again, and able to take more abuse from his mother. But as soon as she left the room, Jeff whispered to Allegra that they were leaving because they'd been there long enough and they had done their duty. Even he couldn't stand it a moment longer.

  “Are you sure?” she whispered, leaning over the cinnamon rolls, and he nodded. She didn't want to tear him away from his mother, but he was far more anxious to leave than she was.

  As they left, Jeff gave his mother the wedding date again, and told her they were expecting to see her there. And Jeff hugged her tight, and she almost responded but not quite, and he gave a little bonus to Lizzie, and then Allegra almost fell over laughing when she saw the car come for them. He had ordered the longest limousine they had. It was long and white, and it had a bar, TV, and God only knew what else inside, and Mrs. Hamilton looked as though she wanted to die rather than have it in her driveway. But Jeff looked quite happy about it.

  “We use them all the time in California, Mom. We'll try and get you one for the wedding,” he said with a straight face as he kissed her good-bye again. He handed their bags to the driver, and then they took off with a last wave, and she stood, looking like a tragic figure in her driveway. Allegra had understood correctly that she was the loneliest woman alive, but she was also the meanest. And to Allegra, she wasn't worth the trouble.

  Jeff had a history with her, but Allegra knew she never would. And she also knew that after this weekend Jeff would never push her to it. They had done their best, they had paid their respects, but it was hopeless.

  “I was thinking,” Jeff said quietly, as they drove back toward the expressway, “maybe we should have yarmulkes at the wedding.”

  “You're disgusting and irreverent. … Will you stop? And how could you get this car?” She laughed at him. “Have you no respect for anything?” She accused, but they were both laughing and he was kissing her, and he was dying to get her home and make love to her. Only his real sense of propriety kept him from making love to her in the outrageous white limo.

  But they both acknowledged silently, by the way they clung to each other and the way they cuddled, that it had been a hideous weekend.

  “I'm sorry, Allegra. I don't know why I didn't realize what it would be like. I must have had denial. Maybe I should go to Dr. Green for a while, to pay penance.”

  “I think it's remarkable you survived her for all these years,” Allegra said admiringly. Mary Hamilton was the coldest woman she'd ever met. And Jeff was completely different.

  “I've never paid a lot of attention to her, and my father was a lot like Simon.”

  “That must have saved you,” she said matter-of-factly.

  They talked about other things all the way back, and they both wanted to kneel and kiss the ground when they got back to California, not to mention when they got to Malibu. And the first thing they did was tear each other's clothes off. They never even made it into bed and wound up on the couch in the living room, and he had never made love to her with such fervor. The repressive atmosphere they'd been in for two days had almost driven them crazy. And Allegra had never been as happy in her life, to be home again, to be away from there, and for a while anyway, to have seen the last of his mother.

  CHAPTER 17

  On Monday morning, after their weekend in New York, Jeff left for the set at three A.M., as usual, and Allegra went through a stack of faxes and papers. They were both in high spirits and happy to be back, especially after the night before. But Allegra frowned when she came across an urgent fax from Carmen's producer. He said that she was so depressed she could barely function on the set. And on Friday, she had gone completely berserk over the story in the tabloids about the abortion.

  It was six o'clock by the time Allegra read the fax, and she knew that Carmen would already be on the set by then, or was supposed to be, and Allegra decided to drive over and see her.

  She organized her paperwork to take it with her to read on the set, if necessary, and by six-thirty, she was gone. At seven, she was sitting with Carmen. But it was just as the producer said. Carmen was a disaster. She had sat home all weekend and cried over the tabloid story, and she was still in a deep depression about losing the baby.

  “You need to see a therapist,” Allegra said calmly, as Carmen blew her nose for the thousandth time that morning.

  “They can't change anything. My baby's still gone, and these awful people print lies about me.”

  “They print lies about everyone. You can't let that ruin your life and Alan's. You have to show them you don't care, and you have to show Alan you can take it. Do you think he wants to be stuck with a wimp for the rest of his life, who's buckling at the knees every time someone takes a potshot at you? Carmen, that's pathetic.” She gave her a pep talk for hours, and watched her on the set. She was depressed, but she was still doing a good job whenever she was on camera. They had to give her that much.

  Allegra was still there at ten o'clock, when someone came to tell her, on the closed set, that there was an urgent call being put through by her office. When she took the call in a soundproof room, it was Alice on the line. She said that she had an emergency call from Delilah Williams, the wedding consultant.

  “She's calling me here}” Allegra asked in disbelief.

  “No, I am,” Alice apologized. “But she said it was an eme
rgency of the highest order.”

  “Is she out of her mind?”

  “It sounds like a good possibility. Shall I put her through?”

  “All right. As long as I'm here, go ahead, but don't track me down for her again, just take a message.”

  “Allegra?” The giant crane in purple intoned into the phone, sounding more ominous than anyone Allegra had ever heard. “You haven't answered a single one of my phone calls.” Her reproach was that of an irate lover. “I know nothing about the cake, the tent, the music for the church, or the reception, for that matter, nor the color for the bridesmaids.” She was clearly outraged. But not nearly so much as Allegra, who was absolutely livid.

  “Do you realize that you've called me on a closed set? Do you have any idea how inconvenient, not to mention inappropriate, that is? And the reason I haven't called you is that I've been too busy getting clients out of jail, into concert tours, and up on their feet for their movies. And the last thing I need is you bugging me about the bridesmaids.”

  “Do you even know who they are yet?” She sounded incensed, but Allegra was more so. She had work to do, and clients to take care of. She couldn't be bothered with this nonsense.

  “I have chosen the bridesmaids,” Allegra conceded to her, unable to believe that this was their conversation, and it had been considered an “emergency of the highest order.” Did that refer to the cake, or the music? “I'll have my secretary send you a list of the bridesmaids' names,” Allegra said darkly, furious at having to be bothered.

  “We need to know their sizes,” Delilah Williams said with equal determination. She was used to dealing with people like Allegra, doctors, lawyers, psychiatrists, celebrities, actresses, none of them capable of putting on a wedding—they all thought they were too busy and important to plan one. But she could do it for them, and make them behave, if she had to. “Do you have their sizes?” she said in a voice that Allegra thought only female impersonators could muster.

 

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