“I'm calling the doctor.” He could feel his heart pound in his chest, and his palms were damp. She looked suddenly very pale and very frightened.
“Don't be silly, darling, I'm fine. We can't call the poor man every night for the next month. It probably won't be for weeks.”
“But you're due in three days.”
“Yes, but even he said it would probably be late. Let's just relax and wait until morning.”
“Shall I leave the lights on?” She shook her head, and he turned them off and slid gingerly into bed beside her, as though he were afraid that by shaking the bed too much he would cause her to explode then and there and have the baby. She giggled at him in the dark, and then suddenly he heard her breath catch, and she reached for his hand and held it tight. She was almost fighting for air when the pain had passed, and she sat up in bed when it was over.
“Ward …”He was lying very still, wondering what to do, and the sound of her voice touched him to the core. She sounded so vulnerable and frightened and instinctively he took her in his arms.
“Sweetheart, let's call the doctor.”
“I really feel silly bothering him at this hour.”
“That's his job.” But she insisted that they should wait and see what happened until morning. But by seven o'clock there was no doubt in Ward's mind. This had to be the real thing. And he didn't give a damn what anyone had told her about false alarms, the pains were coming five minutes apart, and she was fighting not to scream as each pain lunged through her. In desperation, he left the room, and called the doctor they had engaged. He seemed satisfied with what he heard, and suggested Ward bring her in at once.
“It'll probably take a while from this point on, Mr. Thayer, but it's a good idea to get her into the hospital, and settled in.”
“Can you give her something for the pain?” Ward was desperate after seeing her suffer for the past five hours.
“I'll have a better idea once I see her.” The doctor was noncommittal.
“What the hell does that mean? For chrissake, she can hardly keep control now … you've got to give her something …” Ward himself was desperate for a drink, something a lot stronger than champagne this time.
“We'll do what we can for her, Mr. Thayer. Now just keep calm, and bring her to the hospital as soon as you can.”
“I'll have her there in ten minutes, five if I can.”
The doctor didn't say anything but he had no intention of getting to the hospital himself in anything less than an hour. He had to shower and shave, he hadn't finished reading the paper, and he knew the ways of obstetrics well enough to know that she wouldn't deliver for hours, maybe even for another day, so there was no point rushing in, no matter how panicked the young father was. He'd say all the right things to him when he arrived, and the nurses could keep him at bay after that. They'd had one man force his way into the delivery room the week before, but the security people had dragged him out and threatened to put him in jail if he didn't behave. But he didn't anticipate any problems with Ward Thayer.
And the doctor was pleased to be delivering her. It was another feather in his cap to be delivering Faye Price Thayer.
But Ward was horrified when he walked back into their room and found her doubled over a pool of water on the white marble bathroom floor, with a look of shock mingled with pain. “My water just broke.” Her voice was huskier than usual, her eyes wide open and afraid.
“Oh my God, I'll call an ambulance.” But at his words she laughed and sat down at the edge of the tub.
“Don't you dare. I'm fine.” But she didn't look all that fine to him and she looked scared, almost as scared as he was. “What did the doctor say?”
“To bring you in right away.”
“Well,” she looked into her husband's eyes, “I'll say one thing. I don't think it's a false alarm.” She looked a little more relaxed then, and he put his arms around her and helped her back to her dressing room. “What'll I wear?” She stared at the open closets and he groaned.
“Oh for chrissake, Faye … anything … just make it quick. How about a dressing gown?”
“Don't be ridiculous. What if there are photographers there?” Ward looked at her and smiled.
“Don't worry about it. Come on.” He pulled a dress out of the closet, helped her into it, and gently led her downstairs. He wanted to carry her but she insisted she could walk. And ten minutes later, she was comfortably tucked into the Duesenberg, the sable lap robe tucked around her legs, as she cautiously sat on a thick pad of towels, and ten minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the hospital, and Ward led her out. She was instantly put in a wheelchair and whisked away, and he was left to pace the hall for the next six hours. His demands to see the doctor when he arrived were all in vain, until finally at half past two he saw him striding down the hall, his surgical cap still on, swathed in a blue gown, the mask hanging loosely around his neck, and he met Ward with an outstretched hand.
“Congratulations, you have a fat, handsome son!” The doctor smiled and Ward looked shocked, as though he hadn't quite expected it, even after all these hours of going half mad, pacing the halls. It was easy to understand the father the doctor had mentioned who had burst into the delivery room now. He thought he wouldn't have been able to stand it for another half hour. “He weighs eight pounds nine ounces, and your wife is doing fine.”
“Can I see her?” Ward could feel his whole body go slack at the news. He was so relieved that it was over, Faye was well, the baby was fine.
“In a few hours. She's sleeping now. It's hard work, you know, pushing these little fellows into the world.” The doctor smiled again. He didn't tell him how hard on Faye it had been, or how close they had come to doing a Caesarean. And he hadn't wanted to give her gas until the head was out. They had waited until the very end, and then, put her out, once the baby was born. It made sewing up easier for him, and there was no reason for her to be awake now. Her work was over.
“Thank you, sir.” Ward pumped his hand, and almost ran out of the hospital. He had a present waiting at home for her, a huge diamond brooch with a bracelet and ring to match, all lying in a blue velvet box from Tiffany's. He wanted to get it and bring it back, but more importantly, he needed a drink. Desperately, in fact. He had the chauffeur drive him home as fast as he could, and he almost raced into the house. What an incredible day it had been. With a double scotch straight-up under his belt, he sat down and relaxed, took a deep breath, and realized finally that he had a son. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops he was so pleased, and he couldn't wait to see his wife. He tossed off his drink, and poured a second one, before rushing upstairs to look at the present he had waiting for her. He knew she would be pleased with it, but more than anything he was pleased with her … a baby boy! … A Son! … his firstborn. As Ward showered and shaved and dressed to go back and see Faye at the hospital, he thought of all the things he would do with him one day, the trips they'd go on, the mischief they'd get into. His father had never been willing to do anything with him, but everything was going to be different with him and his son. They'd play tennis, polo, go on deep-sea fishing trips in the South Pacific, travel together, have a grand time. He was beaming radiantly when he arrived back at the hospital at five o'clock, and asked the nurse to bring the champagne into Faye's room. But when he tiptoed in, he found her still dozing groggily. She opened her eyes and seemed not to know who he was at first, and then she smiled, the strawberry blond hair looking like a halo around her pale face. She looked almost ethereal as she stared sleepily at him.
“Hi … what did we have?” Her voice drifted off and her eyes closed again, as Ward kissed her cheek and whispered to her.
“You mean they haven't told you yet?” He looked shocked, and the nurse quietly left the room. Faye shook her head. “A boy! A little boy!” She smiled sleepily at him, and declined the champagne. She didn't seem able to sit up and she still looked kind of green to him, and he was desperately worried about her, even though th
e nurses insisted everything was fine. He sat for a long time with her hand in his. “Was it … very … difficult, sweetheart?” He stumbled on the words and something in her eyes told him that it was terrible but she bravely shook her head. “Have you seen him yet? Who does he look like?”
“I don't know … I haven't seen him … I hope he looks like you.” He let her go back to sleep after that. He had showed her the spectacular gift he'd bought for her, and she looked appropriately awed but she was definitely not herself and he suspected she was in a lot of pain but didn't want to admit it to him. He tiptoed down the hall by himself to look at his son, as the nurse held him behind the glass window in the nursery, and the baby didn't look like him but Faye, he was big and round and beautiful with a fluff of blond hair like Faye's. And as Ward watched he gave out what looked like a healthy wail, and Ward thought he had never been so proud in his life as he strutted out of the hospital and into the Duesenberg. He went to dinner at Ciro's alone, knowing he would run into all his friends, and he bragged to everyone, handed out cigars, and got extremely drunk on champagne, while in her hospital room, Faye slept, trying to forget how awful it had been.
She left the hospital in less than a week, and by the time she got home, she looked more like herself. She wanted to nurse the baby, but Ward had convinced her that it wasn't practical. She needed her sleep. They had hired a nurse, who took over while Faye regained her strength, but within two weeks, Faye was on her feet again, with the baby in her arms most of the time, and looking more beautiful than she ever had before, Ward said.
They named the baby Lionel, and christened him on Christmas Day at the church where they'd been married.
“He's the perfect Christmas gift.” Ward beamed down at his son as he held him in his arms on the way home, and Faye laughed. Lionel was almost two months old. “He's beautiful, sweetheart, and he looks so much like you.”
“He's pretty cute, whoever he looks like.” She gazed down at the sleeping infant happily. He had barely cried during the brief ceremony. And once at home, he woke up and didn't seem to object when he was passed from hand to hand. Everyone wanted to have a look at him. All the illustrious and celebrated of Hollywood were there, all the big movie stars, producers, directors, from Faye's old life, and Ward's more social friends. It was a dazzling list of names, and the Hollywood people all teased Faye about giving up her career for “all this” … “Are you just going to go on having babies forever, Faye?” She said she was, and Ward stood at her side and beamed. He was so proud of Faye and Lionel and the champagne flowed like the Seine all day. And that night Ward and Faye went dancing at the Biltmore Bowl. She had made a remarkable recovery. She already had her figure back, and felt well. And Ward thought she had never looked more beautiful. The photographers concurred.
“All set to do it again?” Ward teased. She wasn't quite sure she was. The memory of how painful it had been still lingered with her, but she was crazy about Lionel. It might not be so terrible to do it again, she thought now, though only weeks before she would have shrieked at the idea. “How about a second honeymoon in Mexico?” he proposed, and she loved the idea. They left shortly after New Year's Day, and had a fabulous time in Acapulco for three weeks. They ran into a number of their friends, but spent most of their time alone, they even rented a yacht and spent two days fishing blissfully. It was the perfect holiday, and would have been even more so if on the last week of their trip, Faye hadn't begun feeling ill. She blamed it on the fish, the heat, the sun, and couldn't imagine anything else. But when she got back, Ward insisted she go to the doctor to check it out, and when she did, she was stunned. She was pregnant again.
Ward was thrilled, and so was she. This was exactly what they had both wanted from the first, and everyone teased them mercilessly this time. “Can't you leave the poor girl alone, Thayer? … What's the matter with you two? Can't you leave her alone long enough to comb her hair?” But they were both happy about it, and this time they made love almost until the end, doctor's advice be damned. Ward said that if she was going to spend nine months out of every ten pregnant, then he wasn't giving her up, and he barely did this time. She went into labor five days late, and it was easier this time. She recognized the symptoms of labor more easily, and it began one hot September afternoon. They barely had time to make it to the hospital, the pains came so hard and fast, and Faye was clenching her teeth with tightened fists when they arrived at the hospital. The baby was born less than two hours after that, and when Ward saw her late that night, he wasn't as upset this time at how sleepy she was. This time he had bought her sapphire earrings with a matching thirty-carat ring. It was another boy, and they named him Gregory, and Faye bounced back just as quickly this time. But this time she vowed to be a little more careful, at least “for a while.”
When the baby was three months old, she and Ward went to Europe on the Queen Elizabeth for a nice long trip. They took the nurse and both boys along, with a separate stateroom for them, and huge suites of rooms in every city where they went. London, Paris, Munich, Rome. They even went to Cannes for a few days in March and the weather was pleasant and warm, and then finally back to Paris and from there home again. It was a wonderful trip for all of them, and Faye was as happy as could be with the husband she adored and her two sons. She was stopped for autographs once or twice, but that happened much less often now. People seldom knew who she was. She was still very beautiful, but she looked different somehow. More matronly perhaps, slightly less glamourous, except when she went out in the evening with Ward. But she was perfectly content to wear slacks and a sweater and a scarf around her golden hair, and go out with her two little boys. She couldn't imagine a more perfect life, and Ward was so obviously proud of them.
They found all well when they went back, but the gossip in Hollywood was ugly these days. The Hollywood Blacklist had come out months before, and countless actors, directors, writers, and other people they had known could no longer find work. Suddenly the word “commie” was on everyone's lips, fingers were all too anxious to point in all directions, even toward old friends. It was a sad time for many people, and in a way, Faye was glad she was no longer a part of it. The saddest thing of all was that those who had been blacklisted suddenly found themselves with no friends, as well as no work. People were afraid to be seen with them.
Warner Bros, had put up an enormous billboard outside the studios, “Combining Good Pictures with Good Citizenship,” which told everyone where they stood.
The House Committee to Investigate UnAmerican Activities had been in operation for ten years, but it had never taken itself so seriously, and in October 1947, the “Hollywood 10” were given prison sentences for refusing to testify, it was as though the whole town had gone mad, and it made Faye sick to hear the stories that were going around about old friends, people they all knew. By 1948, talented people they had all loved were being forced to leave Hollywood and get jobs as plumbers, carpenters, anything they could. Their Hollywood days were over, and Faye looked pained whenever she spoke to Ward of it.
“I'm glad I'm out of all that. I never thought it would get as ugly as this.”
Ward looked at her carefully. He had to admit, she seemed happy with her present life, but he wondered sometimes if she didn't miss the old days of her film career. “You sure you don't miss it, babe?”
“Not for a minute, my love.” But he had noticed that she was restless lately, as though she needed something more to do. She had begun doing volunteer work in a local hospital, and she spent a lot of time with the boys. Lionel was almost two years old, and Gregory was ten months old, a precious baby with a happy smile and dancing curls. But Faye was happiest of all when she announced to Ward just days before Greg's first birthday that she was pregnant again.
And this time it was more difficult for her. She felt less well than she had, right from the first, and she was much more tired this time. She never seemed to want to go out, and Ward noticed that she was much bigger this time. Although the rest of h
er looked even thinner than usual, her stomach was enormous almost at once, and by Christmas the doctor suspected why. He examined her carefully, and as she sat up, he smiled at her.
“I think the Easter bunny might have quite a surprise for you this time, Faye, if he waits that long.”
“What's that?” She felt as though she could barely move, and she still had three months to go.
“I have a suspicion, just a faint one, that it might be twins.” She stared at him in astonishment, the possibility had never even crossed her mind. She just thought that she was more tired this time, but now that she thought about it, she was much bigger too.
“Are you sure?”
“No. We can do an X ray in a while, and we'll certainly know at the delivery.” And that they did. Two beautiful little girls popped out of her, nine minutes apart, and Ward was so beside himself when he saw the two baby girls that he went completely berserk. It was matching ruby and diamond bracelets this time. Two ruby rings. Diamond and ruby earrings, two of everything. And even Greg and Lionel looked surprised when they came home with two babies instead of one.
'One for each of you,” Ward said, lovingly putting one tiny pink bundle into the arms of each little boy. The twins were a big success with everyone. They weren't identical technically, but they might just as well have been they looked so much alike. They called the oldest one Vanessa, and she looked incredibly like Faye. The same green eyes, the same blond hair, the same tiny perfect features, yet she was the quiet one. It was the younger twin who screamed the loudest whenever she wanted to eat, who smiled first. The same tiny perfect face and huge green eyes, but Valerie had fiery red hair, right from birth, and a personality to match.
“My God, where did she get that?” Ward looked shocked as her red hair began to grow, but as she grew older, her hair, like the rest of her, grew more and more beautiful. She was a startlingly pretty little girl and people often stared at her. At times, Faye worried that Valerie eclipsed her twin. Vanessa was so much quieter, and she seemed to accept living in the shadow of the twin sister she adored. Vanessa was a pretty child too, but quieter, more ethereal, she was happy looking at her picture books, or watching Valerie torment the boys. Lionel was always particularly patient with her, and Greg would grab fistfuls of the bright red hair. It taught Valerie the art of self-defense at an early age, if nothing else. But on the whole, the children had a good time with each other, and people said they were the prettiest lot anyone had ever seen. Two beautiful little girls, toddling around the grounds of the estate, playing with the miniature pony their father had bought several years before, and the two boys cavorting all around, climbing trees, and reducing their beautiful little silk shirts to shreds with glee.
Family Album Page 10