“You don’t need Delores listening in on everything that needs to be said and heard,” Audrey had advised. “Tell him you will meet him on the platform. I’ll be waiting outside with my car. Then we’ll go somewhere private but not too private. I will tell him what I need to say and then you will do the same. Actually, we’ll do it at the same time. They kind of go together.”
Violet had lost sleep over how to tell Bert she’d not been truthful with him, but now as the time neared for the weight of that deception to be gone, she found she was anxious to have the ordeal over with. At least the part about not being able to get pregnant. She could never tell him about the hat. He wouldn’t understand.
Audrey had assured her that Bert would forgive her. People who loved each other did that. And that she would eventually earn back his trust. People who loved each other did that, too.
She scanned the platform as the doors parted and passengers began to disembark, many of them servicemen just like Bert. After a few seconds Violet saw him step down out of a train car and hoist a duffel bag to his shoulder. He was thin and wore a sand-colored Army uniform. She could see none of his usual wavy hair under his cap. She ran toward him, and he dropped the bag and pulled her close.
At first she could only marvel at the sensation of having his arms around her, and hearing him say her name and feeling his kisses on her neck. She began to cry at the beauty of the present moment and the dread of what would follow when they met up with Audrey.
“You can’t imagine how good it is to see you and hold you,” he said as they finally broke away.
“I think maybe I can!” she said, laughing a little and wiping her eyes.
He grabbed his bag. “Shall we go home?”
“Actually, Audrey and I thought we’d take you to lunch before we head back.”
He blinked at her. “Audrey’s here?”
“She is. She can drive now. And she’s . . . We’ve got some news for you.”
Bert’s happy expression wilted somewhat. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” she said quickly, looping her arm through his and leading him away from the belching steam of the train so that she could say the rest of what she and Audrey had rehearsed. “Audrey needs our help with something, Bert. She’s expecting.”
He turned his head to face her as they walked. “Expecting?”
“Yes. And she needs our help.”
Violet could see Bert was working out in his head the ramifications of what she had just told him. She would have written him if Audrey had recently gotten married. He’d already surmised that she was still single.
“And there’s something I want to tell you, too. But let’s wait until we’re all together. All right? Your train ride was okay?”
She peppered him with questions about his travel and boot camp until they reached Audrey’s car in the parking lot. She got out, and Violet noticed that Bert’s gaze bulleted straight to the mound at her middle.
Audrey went to him and kissed him on the cheek. “So good to see you, Bert.”
“And you, too,” he said in return, a dozen questions evident in his tone.
Audrey took a deep breath and smiled. “Violet told you?”
“I can see for myself.” Bert smiled back politely.
“I know a great little park where we can sit and chat for a bit before we find a place to eat. Shall we?”
They got into the car, and again there was small talk, mostly about Audrey’s car and her recent play, until they reached the park off Alvarado Street. Audrey parked and directed them to a table near the little lake, but under a willow and shaded from the August sun. Children were splashing about in the water while their mothers sat on blankets and entertained toddlers. A hot-dog vendor and balloon man were having an animated conversation about Babe Ruth donning a baseball uniform for the first time in seven years, and a teenage boy was tossing a red rubber ball to a curly-haired dog.
“So,” Bert said. “What’s all this about?” He looked from Violet to Audrey.
Violet opened her mouth but the rehearsed words hovered at her lips, as if held back by a mighty force.
Audrey took her hand. “Violet has something she needs to tell you, Bert.”
• • •
Hours later Bert was sitting up in bed when Violet came into their room from the bathroom. Delores, overjoyed to have her son home but baffled by the news that Bert and Violet were seriously considering adopting Audrey’s unborn child, had been full of questions but was at last asleep. Audrey, too, had gone to Bert’s old bedroom and turned in.
Violet was at last alone with her husband.
His arms were folded loosely across his chest and an issue of Audubon magazine lay unopened on his lap. He was staring at the yellow-and-black bird on the cover, but Violet could tell he was not really seeing it. She knew he was pondering what she’d told him that afternoon.
“You’ve kept this from me? All this time?” he had said, after she’d at last confessed she could bear him no children. His eyes had been shining with an aching anger she’d dreaded for three years. The happy sounds of children playing in the background had seemed cruelly out of place.
True to her word, Audrey had come to Violet’s aid when Bert’s anguished question left her struggling to continue.
“She wanted to tell you. You can see in her face how much she did, Bert. She just didn’t know how.”
He had turned on Audrey and glared at her. “And you knew about this?”
Violet had expected Audrey to say that she’d realized only recently that Violet hadn’t told Bert the truth. Instead, Audrey left the question unanswered.
“She’d been hurt before by someone she’d given her heart to, Bert. Someone who abandoned her because of this very thing. He wasn’t the man you are and Violet knows it, but when your heart is crushed it does things to keep it from ever getting hurt the same way again. It does foolish things prompted by the worst kind of fear. Violet loves you. She didn’t want to lose you.”
Bert had turned his attention back to Violet, his eyes beseeching her to help him understand. “Did you really think I would leave you over this?”
“I wasn’t thinking! I was afraid. And the longer I didn’t tell you, the more afraid I became, because I knew how badly you wanted us to have a baby.”
It had been at that moment that the edge of his anger had seemed to soften. A few minutes later Audrey had voiced her request. And as Violet had predicted, Bert, though still stunned, was open to the idea of adopting Audrey’s baby.
Violet now walked over to Bert’s side of the bed and sat down.
Several seconds passed before he looked up at her. “I’m not angry anymore,” he said, but the tone of his voice made Violet tremble.
“But you’re something,” she said, fresh tears springing to her eyes.
He inhaled slowly. “I don’t know what I am. Disillusioned, maybe. Hurt. I don’t know.”
“Bert, I am so very—”
“I know. You’re sorry.”
“But I am! I just loved you so much. I still do. I couldn’t . . . I just couldn’t risk losing you.”
“And is this why you wanted to elope? Because you were afraid I’d find out and leave you?”
She stared at him for a second. “Didn’t you want to marry me when you did?”
“I did. I just . . . We rushed into marriage so quickly, Violet.”
“When I asked if you thought we should get married, you said yes. I was kidding when I said, ‘Let’s elope.’ I didn’t think you would take me up on it. Of course I wanted to marry you right then. You were tired of pining away after Audrey. And you knew I loved you!”
She had said too much. Violet looked away. Another stretch of silent seconds passed, and then Bert tossed the magazine onto the floor. Violet flinched and slowly turned her gaze
to him. Bert’s hand was extended toward her, though, beckoning her to come into his embrace. She scrambled into his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Shhhh. Let’s not talk about it anymore right now. What’s done is done.”
They lay quiet in each other’s arms for several minutes as Violet’s tears abated.
“Are you sure you want to adopt Audrey’s child?” he finally said.
She looked up at him. “Aren’t you?”
“It will change things between all of us.”
“Will it?”
“How can it not? We will be raising her child as our own.”
“That’s what Audrey wants. And this may be our only chance to have a child.”
Bert seemed to be far away in this thoughts. “It just doesn’t seem fair to Audrey that the child won’t know who she is.”
Violet sat up. “She has a career to think about, darling. A child out of wedlock would harm her reputation.”
“But she’s leaving to us the decision of whether or not the child should be told.”
“Yes, but what good would there be in the child knowing? Who wants to grow up thinking his mother thought more of her career than she did of her own child? Would you want to grow up knowing that?”
“I suppose not.”
Violet snuggled back into his arms and they were quiet for a moment. “It makes me sad to think you won’t get leave again until Christmas. The baby will already be a month old by then.”
“I know. If we’re going to do this, you make sure Audrey knows we’ll pay for everything. And she can stay here with you and Mom until she delivers, if that’s what she wants. If she believes she needs to stay hidden for the next three months, then she should just stay here.”
Violet smiled against Bert’s chest. She liked the thought of Audrey being there while Bert was away and of the child being born right there in Santa Barbara. “Can we call her Elaine if it’s a girl? I’ve always loved that name. We can call her Lainey for short.”
“And if it’s a boy?”
“Henry. After your father.” Violet looked up at her husband. His eyes were glistening with what were surely conflicting emotions.
“So you forgive me? Please tell me yes,” she pleaded.
He hesitated a moment, and her pulse quickened under her skin. “We need to know we can trust each other. We can’t have any more secrets like this between us, Violet. We just can’t.”
She blinked back new tears. “I know we can’t.”
“Promise me no more after this.”
Violet could make that promise. She could easily make it. To suddenly have everything she’d always wanted made her feel light-headed and free.
What she had done in the past—all of it—would be buried under the pledge she was now making.
No more secrets.
“I promise,” she said.
As he took her into his arms, Violet felt as though she were soaring.
She still had to make the call to her parents to tell them she and Bert were adopting Audrey’s baby. She knew her parents would likely be concerned about the kind of person Audrey was that she would be in the family way and unmarried.
But Violet didn’t want to think about that then. She’d think about it tomorrow.
TWENTY-FIVE
November 1942
The closing credits for For Me and My Gal were rolling down the screen but the theater was still dark as the audience started to rise from their seats. Audrey had enjoyed the movie but she’d been distracted by an odd, menacing pressure inside her body that had begun as soon as the houselights went down. She remembered the ache from years before; her body was reminding her that the child wouldn’t always be hidden inside her, that a time of emptying was coming.
She had three more weeks before her due date, nearly another month of letting Violet pamper her, of putting puzzles together with Delores, of waking up in Bert’s old room, of holding the child as close to her body as a mother could.
Audrey placed her hands over her swollen middle. The sensation was intensifying. Maybe if she could lie down, it would lessen. Or maybe if she just sat there for a few minutes, the tightening would subside.
Violet, sitting in the seat next to her, leaned toward her. “Don’t you just love Judy Garland?”
“She’s incredible,” Audrey replied, with little lilt to her voice.
“Everything all right?”
“Probably. But let’s just sit for a minute.” Audrey smiled in spite of her discomfort. Violet was going to be a wonderful mother. Her kind attention these past two months had assured her of that. But Audrey knew Violet looked to the end of Audrey’s pregnancy with a different kind of expectation. The home she had graciously offered so that Audrey could give birth, concealed from Hollywood’s prying eyes, did not bear the look of a house being made ready for a new life. Violet hadn’t been able to do anything to prepare a nursery. Audrey slept in the room that would be the baby’s, and though she had offered to let Violet do whatever she wished with that room, Violet had declined, saying it could wait. The few baby things Violet had bought she had stuffed on Bert’s side of the closet so that, as Violet had said, Audrey wouldn’t have to look at them.
A newborn didn’t need a crib or even its own room, Violet had told her. In the beginning, a bassinet at the mother’s bedside was all that was required, as the baby was so tiny and the mother was up and down at all hours, seeing to its many needs.
The theater was almost empty now and the house-lights came on. “Want to go get ice cream before we head home?” Violet asked.
Another strong contraction rolled across her midsection, and Audrey closed her eyes against its force.
“Or something else, if you’re not in the mood for ice cream,” Violet added.
“I think . . . I think something is happening, Violet.” Audrey opened her eyes as the pain subsided.
Violet instinctively looked down at Audrey’s bulging abdomen. “What do you mean? Now? Right now?”
Audrey leaned forward a bit in her seat as a ripple of nausea moved within her, coupled with a feeling of urgency.
“But it’s too early!” Violet exclaimed. “You still have three more weeks!”
“I think I might need to go to the hospital.” Audrey reached for her purse.
“But it’s too early!” Violet said again, as she watched Audrey rise awkwardly to her feet. “You’ve got three more weeks!”
“Babies come when they want to come.”
Violet grabbed her pocketbook as well, sprang to her feet, and followed Audrey into the aisle. “Are you sure you need to go to the hospital?”
“I’ve done this before, Vi.”
“But we didn’t bring your car! We walked here!”
They entered the foyer of the theater, now swarming with ticket holders for the next showing of the movie.
Audrey headed for the concession stand, where slick-haired young men in bow ties were selling popcorn and licorice.
“Could you please have someone call us a cab?” Audrey said politely, and then reached out for Violet as a new pain—a more aggressive one—seized her.
One of the young men’s eyes grew wide and he dashed for the office in back.
The theater manager was suddenly at their side, ushering them to the big revolving doors. He spoke in gentle tones to Audrey, assuring her that the taxi was on its way. Audrey appreciated his effort to keep her calm, but she felt strangely tranquil. As they started to head outside, the manager called over his shoulder to tell the young man to alert the hospital that a woman in labor was headed their way.
The manager stayed with them until the taxi arrived and he helped Audrey inside.
“Do you have money for the fare?” he asked Violet. She replied in a nervous voice that she didn’t know and she began to poke
about in her purse for her wallet.
“I have it,” Audrey replied between gritted teeth.
Violet got into the cab. Audrey could sense Violet’s anxiety. The manager shut the door and the taxi sped away.
“It’s going to be okay, Violet.” Audrey leaned her head back on the seat.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Just hold on to my purse for me and don’t let them give me anything to make me sleepy. Promise me you won’t let them put me to sleep. I want to be awake.”
There was no answer. Violet appeared to have no idea what Audrey was talking about.
Audrey raised her head to look at Violet. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
They arrived at the hospital’s front entrance in less than ten minutes. A nurse in a starched hat and a white-uniformed orderly stood at the curb next to a wheelchair. Audrey handed Violet her purse.
“Pay the driver before we get out so that you can stay with me.”
Violet handed the money across the seat as the passenger’s door on Audrey’s side opened and the orderly reached for her.
Violet scrambled out the other side as Audrey was getting settled into the wheelchair.
“Is this your first baby, dear?” the nurse said, smiling wide.
“No,” Audrey answered before she doubled over in pain.
“What’s her name?” the nurse said to Violet as they turned toward the hospital’s front doors.
Violet opened her mouth, but Audrey answered before Violet could get any words past her lips.
“I’m Audrey Kluge.”
The nurse bent down toward Audrey as she wheeled her over the hospital’s threshold and inside the building. “And can we call Mr. Kluge for you? I take it he wasn’t at the movies with you ladies?”
“There is no Mr. Kluge,” Audrey said through clenched teeth.
The nurse gave Violet a questioning look. “Oh! Um. He died,” Violet said. “In a boating accident. In . . . in May. Very tragic. He was my cousin.”
A tiny smile tugged at Audrey’s mouth.
“Don’t give her anything to make her sleepy,” Violet continued, as they rushed Audrey toward double doors that Violet wasn’t allowed through. “She doesn’t want anything that will make her sleepy. She wants to be awake.”
Stars Over Sunset Boulevard Page 20