10
“Kind of puts the Abigail Adams to shame,” Torey murmured to Robin as the two of them waited in the sitting-room part of Jennifer Fitzhugh’s hotel suite. The room was twice the size of their bedrooms, and it didn’t even have a bed, just luxurious living-room furnishings, including a nineteen-inch television. Robin walked over to it and patted it fondly.
“Her own TV,” she said. “I’d forgotten how much I miss watching TV.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Torey said. “We don’t own a television.”
“Who doesn’t own a TV?” Jennifer Fitzhugh asked, coming out of her bedroom. Robin gasped. It was bad enough she was walking in on a private conversation. But it was so typical of Torey that it was one of those “we-don’t-have” ones.
“These are the girls,” Jennifer Fitzhugh’s publicist announced. He’d been the one to let the girls into the suite. He was very Hollywood-looking in Robin’s opinion, just a little too slick to be believable. “Girls, the incomparable Jennifer Fitzhugh.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Torey said in her best royal manner. She walked over to the star and offered her a hand to shake.
Jennifer Fitzhugh ignored the extended hand. “You don’t own a TV,” she said. “How come? You come from one of those fancy intellectual families that thinks they’re too good for TV?”
“Hardly,” Torey said with a laugh. “It’s just cable hasn’t reached us yet. And where I live there’s no reception without cable.”
“Oh,” Jennifer Fitzhugh said, clearly mollified. “I guess it drives you crazy, not having a TV set.”
“Well, no,” Torey replied. “My mother always says you don’t miss what you’ve never had.”
“That is a crock,” Jennifer Fitzhugh announced. “Isn’t it, Ralph?”
“It certainly is,” the publicist agreed.
“Why?” Torey asked. “What is it you missed before you had it?”
“Plenty,” Jennifer Fitzhugh declared. “Like having a father around. He walked out on us when I was two, and if you’re going to tell me I didn’t miss having a father around, I’ll tell you you’re crazy.”
Torey looked thoughtful. “You’re right,” she said. “And I’ll tell my mother when I see her next. It must have been very rough not having a father.”
“It was murder,” Jennifer Fitzhugh replied. “Worse than not having a TV, I’ll tell you.”
“Jennifer’s is a great story,” her publicist announced. “Grit and determination have made her one of the biggest stars on TV, at the young age of nineteen. Her future is unlimited in its potential.”
“That’s great,” Torey said, sounding almost sincere. “I was wondering if we could all sit down.”
“Oh, certainly,” the publicist said, and soon Robin found herself perched uncomfortably on the edge of a wing chair. Torey was seated next to Jennifer Fitzhugh on a love seat.
“Would you mind if I used this tape recorder?” Torey asked.
“Not at all,” Jennifer Fitzhugh replied. “That way we can be sure you quote me accurately.”
“Exactly,” Torey said, turning the machine on. “Now, Miss Fitzhugh—”
“Jennifer,” the star suggested.
“Jennifer,” Torey said, and gave her one of her smiles. “Do you think there was some connection between your father leaving and your becoming a star?”
“Absolutely,” Jennifer declared. “For one thing, it meant I had to go to work if my family was going to eat.”
“Jennifer started modeling when she was just an infant,” Ralph said. “She appeared in diaper and baby-food commercials, as well as doing a lot of magazine-ad work.”
“Sometimes I think that’s why my old man walked out,” Jennifer declared. “He knew I’d be able to support Mom, so he didn’t have to meet his responsibilities.”
“Do you have any contact with him?” Torey asked.
“None,” Jennifer said flatly. “He gave me a call when Highwater started taking off, trying to get on my payroll, but I turned him down flat. He wasn’t there for me, I sure wasn’t going to be there for him.”
“What Jennifer is trying to say is that while she hopes someday a reconciliation with her father will happen, right now her life is too complicated to take such an emotional risk,” Ralph said. Robin almost applauded.
“Thanks, Ralph,” Jennifer said. “You knew what I was trying to say, didn’t you?”
“I had some idea,” Torey said.
“What’s your name anyway?” Jennifer asked. “You and the quiet one hovering in the corner.”
“I’m Torey Jones,” Torey replied. “And that’s Robin Schyler. She’s going to be taking pictures.”
“I assumed that from the camera case,” Jennifer said, but she giggled. When she giggled, she almost seemed like a real human being.
“Robin’s family has a TV,” Torey said.
“Three,” Robin said. “Three sets.” It seemed like such a decadent number.
“And you watch Highwater?” Jennifer asked her.
“You better believe it,” Robin replied. “My parents won’t let my kid brother watch it, but he sneaks off to one of the spare sets and watches it on his own.”
“That’s terrible,” Torey said. “Kevin shouldn’t disobey his parents like that.”
Robin wasn’t about to tell Torey that she had fibbed and that Kevin wouldn’t be caught dead watching Highwater. “I’ll tell him you said so,” she said instead. Torey could be such a pain.
“Kids should obey their parents,” Jennifer said. “I mean, of course I want everybody to watch Highwater, but not if it means kids are disobeying their parents. I like to think I represent something to American teenagers, and that’s the respect they should show grown-ups.”
Robin suppressed a snicker. Unfortunately, she didn’t suppress it well enough. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But the character you play isn’t exactly a saint.”
“What is she like?” Torey asked. “I’ve never seen Highwater.”
“Where do you live, Torey?” Jennifer asked. “The North Pole?”
“Not exactly,” Torey replied. “A little town in the Catskills called Raymund. Lots of people there watch Highwater. I hear it discussed at school.”
“What do you do if you don’t have a TV?” Jennifer persisted.
“My father is blind,” Torey replied. “So we read books out loud a lot. And we listen to the radio.”
“Good heavens,” Jennifer said, almost respectfully. “It sounds like you have it pretty rough.”
“We probably have more in common than you might think,” Torey said. “But I still don’t know what your character does.”
“What does she do, Robin?” Jennifer asked.
Robin knew a test question when she heard one. “Well, last year Lisa had an affair with her stepfather,” she began. “Not by choice, but she did anyway. And when the season ended, she was implicated in the murder of Tony Rocco, who seems to be her father, even though she doesn’t know that. I hope she didn’t really kill him. I like Lisa. And the year before that, she broke off with her perfectly nice boyfriend because he didn’t have enough money.”
“That’s not fair,” Jennifer jumped in. “Her mother made her. Her mother is a real witch,” she said conversationally to Torey.
“What Jennifer means is that the character of Marlena has had many difficult times,” Ralph said. “Causing some severe problems between her and her daughter, Lisa.”
“She drinks,” Jennifer said to Torey. “And she’s a real witch when she drinks. You understood that too, right?”
“I never had any doubts,” Torey replied. “So Lisa has a real rough time of it. Does that give you a lot to identify with?”
“Lots,” Jennifer said.
“Of course Jennifer’s family is nothing like the family on Highwater,” Ralph said. “Jennifer is very close to her mother. She calls her every night she’s out of town.”
“You call your mother?” Jennifer asked Torey.
“You do have a phone, don’t you?”
“We do,” Torey replied. “But I can’t afford the calls.”
Jennifer took Torey’s hand and pressed it between hers. “You call your mother tonight. Charge it to my card. Ralph, find me my charge number, so Torey can call her mother tonight.”
Robin sat there marveling. Torey had the most amazing gift for getting people to give her things.
“That really isn’t necessary,” Torey said. “I write home every night. And my family writes back. I know how they all are.”
“You have any pictures?” Jennifer asked.
“Sure,” Torey said. She dug through her bag for her wallet. “Those are my parents,” she said, showing Jennifer a snapshot. “And these are my sisters and me. And this is a picture of my brother.”
“What’s the matter with him?” Jennifer asked.
“He was in an accident,” Torey replied.
“Your father’s blind and your brother’s a cripple,” Jennifer said. “Jeez. Some people in Hollywood think they have it so rough, and it’s nothing compared to the way your family has suffered.”
Torey smiled politely. “We’re really all right,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about us.”
“But I do,” Jennifer said.
“Jennifer is known on the Coast for her generous heart,” Ralph announced. “She’s very active in her local Friends of the Animals chapter.”
“Maybe I should start taking pictures,” Robin said.
“Yes,” Torey said. “That sounds like a good idea.”
Jennifer continued to examine Torey’s family portraits. “You should go into modeling,” she told Torey. “The camera loves you. And you can swim in those cheekbones.”
“Oh, no,” Torey said. “I really couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Jennifer asked. “Your family could sure use the money you’d be earning.”
“For one thing, I don’t want to leave them,” Torey said. “And Raymund isn’t exactly the fashion center of the world.”
“You’re going to be leaving them someday,” Jennifer pointed out. “You’ve left them already for this summer.”
“For another,” Torey continued, “I have no sense of what makes me look good. Sometimes I’ll think I really look terrible, and people will come up to me and tell me how great I look. A model really has to know how to look her best. That’s a real skill, and I don’t have it.”
“You have a model’s face and figure,” Jennifer said. “And you take a great picture. The rest you can learn.”
“Why don’t we start now?” Robin said. “Jennifer, do you think you and Torey could move over to those two chairs there?”
Torey obligingly got up. Jennifer took one final look at the snapshots and then followed Torey.
Robin positioned herself in front of the large window that overlooked the park. The natural light was strong enough that she wouldn’t need to use a flash, which was a relief. She hadn’t had that much practice with indoor shots, and flashes made her nervous. She knelt down close to Torey, so it would seem like Jennifer was making eye contact with the camera, when actually it would be Torey she’d be looking at.
Jennifer immediately became animated as Robin started taking pictures. She told Torey all about her work with Friends of the Animals and her own three pet dogs. She also reminisced about how she’d gotten the part of Lisa after auditioning for it with two hundred other girls. She discussed what it was like being a child model and a teenage actress. Whenever she was quiet, Torey supplied an appropriate question. How did it feel playing a character who was so obviously different from herself? Did she miss having an average American adolescence? What were her dreams for the future? Her greatest temptations? Her favorite ways to relax? She and Jennifer kept up such a high level of conversation, Ralph hardly had to say a thing.
Robin was impressed with both of them, but she was especially impressed with herself. Taking the pictures felt absolutely right, she realized. And it must have felt right to Jennifer and Torey also, since they seemed unaware of the clicks of the camera or the way Robin shifted position. When she knew she had enough pictures to satisfy Image, she sat down and let Torey continue to work.
“How about a picture of the three of you together?” Ralph asked. “Something for your scrapbooks. You don’t mind, do you, Jennifer?”
“No, of course not,” Jennifer said, getting up and stretching. “Get the camera, Ralph.”
So Ralph got a camera of his own—a good one, Robin noted, although she preferred the one Image had lent her—and snapped some pictures. Robin and Torey posed individually with Jennifer, and also in a group shot.
“Give Ralph your addresses,” Jennifer said. “That way he’ll be able to send pictures back to your folks.”
The girls told Ralph where they lived. Then Robin checked her camera equipment, Torey gathered up the tape recorder, and they both thanked Jennifer and Ralph for their cooperation.
“Please develop the pictures for me,” Robin pleaded to Herb as soon as she got back to Image. “I’m dying to see how they turned out.”
“You know I’m not being paid to do little jobs for little people,” Herb grumbled.
“Think of it as a favor,” Robin said. “A good deed. A way of helping a young person on her career.”
“If I do all that thinking, I won’t have time to develop the pictures,” Herb said. “Okay, kid. Lucky for you, I’m a sucker for teenage girls.”
“I’ll wait right here,” Robin said. “And guard the studio from invaders until the contact sheets are ready.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “That’s very generous of you.”
Robin grinned. She knew the pictures would turn out all right, but she was wildly impatient to make sure. If they hadn’t, she didn’t know what she would do.
“Robin? Oh, thank goodness you’re alone.”
“Torey, what is it?” Robin asked.
Torey entered the studio, carrying the tape recorder with her. “I have a problem,” she said. “And you’re the only person who can help me with it.”
“Sure, what?” Robin said.
“The batteries were dead,” Torey declared. “None of the interview came out.”
“Oh, Torey, no,” Robin said. “What are you going to do?”
“I think I can reconstruct most of what she said from memory,” Torey said. “But it would be a big help if I could go over it with you to make sure I remember stuff correctly. And I know I won’t remember it all. Can you give me some time now?”
“Now is perfect,” Robin replied. “Sit down, and we’ll go over it together.” She felt enormously pleased at seeing Torey with a problem created by her own goofing up. It made her seem a little less perfect.
“First of all, what did she look like?” Torey asked. “I don’t even remember what she had on. I never think to look at things like that. I can be so stupid sometimes.”
“A blue blouse the exact color of her eyes,” Robin replied. “Periwinkle blue. And white slacks, and open-toed white shoes. Gold-and-pearl earrings, and two gold chains.”
“I don’t believe you noticed all that,” Torey said. “Robin, you’re a lifesaver. Now, let’s go over just what she said about her family.”
So the girls spent over an hour, with Torey making frantic notes as they reconstructed Jennifer’s comments. Robin noted that Torey remembered just about all of it, but she knew she was being a help in reassuring her, so she didn’t mind.
“This is so funny,” Robin said when they finally finished. “You won’t care if I tell Annie and Ashley, will you?”
“Oh, no, please don’t,” Torey said. “It was Annie’s tape recorder, and if she thinks it was her fault that the machine didn’t work, it might really upset her.”
“She’s bound to notice the batteries are dead sometime,” Robin pointed out.
“I’m going to buy new ones right after work,” Torey said. “That way she’ll never have to know. It was my fault, after all. I sho
uld have checked last night. But I was so excited, I didn’t think to.”
Robin shook her head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Torey said. “Why am I such an idiot? I was born this way.”
“That’s not it at all,” Robin said. “Didn’t you mind when Jennifer was going on and on about your family? I would have died.”
“That was okay,” Torey replied. “My family brings out the charitable in people. We’re given turkeys at Christmas, that sort of thing. I’m used to it.”
“But doesn’t it bother your pride?” Robin asked.
Torey shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t afford pride,” she said. “Those turkeys come in handy. And I’m not going to become a model.”
“I never said you should.”
“You didn’t have to,” Torey said. “Enough other people have.” She sat there, so still it took Robin a moment to realize how angry Torey was.
“Don’t you think you should start writing up your notes?” she asked. “They’re going to want an article to go with my fabulous photographs.”
“You’re right,” Torey said. “Thanks again. And you swear you won’t tell Annie or Ashley?”
“Swear,” Robin said. “But for a price.”
“What?” Torey asked. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”
“That’s it exactly,” Robin said. “I promise I won’t tell Annie or Ashley if you agree to ask Ned to go on a double date with Tim and me.”
“You win,” Torey said. “But you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself.”
Robin grinned. Shame was the least of what she was feeling. Pride and triumph were a lot more like it.
It didn’t surprise Robin, she was pleased to note, when she looked at the contact sheets and saw that most of the pictures had turned out perfectly. Even Herb told her they weren’t half-bad, which was almost as good as the Pulitzer Tim had promised her.
Nor was she surprised when she read Torey’s piece and realized it was close to brilliant. Jennifer Fitzhugh sounded just like herself, only slightly sanitized, the way Ralph and Image would want her to sound. There was no way a stranger reading the article would know it had been written by a sixteen-year-old amateur.
Fantasy Summer Page 10