She got back to her bungalow at eight o'clock that night, and this time even her cheery little rooms at the Beverly Hills Hotel looked depressing to her. She wanted to be home again, and yet she didn't. She wanted to be in Ross with him, the way it had been before. She wondered if it would ever be that way again. And now that she was back in L.A., in the bungalow, she was lonelier than ever, and missed Jason and the girls. She missed everything and everyone, and even herself. She felt as though she had lost herself in the last three weeks. The only thing she hadn't lost were her children, but she even felt out of touch with them. She didn't call Peter that night, and he didn't call her either. The silence was deafening in Bungalow 2. She didn't even bother to put on music. She just curled up in bed, asked for a wake-up call, and cried herself to sleep. In some ways it was a relief. She didn't have to worry about Peter lying next to her, and wonder what he was thinking, or if he had heard from Alice. Tanya felt as though she couldn't stem the tides. She didn't know if his promise to end the affair was sincere, or if he could live up to it. She had no idea what to believe. She had trusted him before, and her peaceful little world had come crashing down like a house of cards in the past three weeks.
She was relieved to get back to the set the next day, despite the early wake-up call. Max was the first one she saw, sharing a bagel with Harry. The dog wagged his tail the minute he saw Tanya, and she patted him with a tired smile.
“Welcome back,” Max said, smiling at her. It took him less than a second to see the shards of her heart in her eyes. She looked awful and had lost about ten pounds. He pretended not to notice. “How were the holidays?”
“Great,” she said in a flat voice. “How was New York?”
“Ice cold and snowy, but it was fun. I think I'm too old for grandchildren. Only young people should have grandchildren. They wore me out.” She smiled, as Douglas appeared with a stack of notes. Their last script changes were being distributed in a new shade of pastel colors. It was hard to keep track of the changes anymore, there had been so many.
“Welcome back to Hollywood,” he said, with a raised eyebrow. “Wonderful time in Marin?” he asked sarcastically. If so, she didn't look it. She was suddenly too thin. “You look like you haven't eaten since you left.” Thank you, Douglas. Never one to mince words, or hide what he thought.
“I had the flu.” She covered her tracks, and she doubted he believed her.
“That's too bad. Welcome back to work,” he said, and moved on. He stayed on the set all morning to see how things were going. They had some tough scenes to shoot, but for once Jean Amber remembered her lines. She looked blissful, and word had gotten out that she had spent the holidays in St. Bart's with Ned Bright. They both looked very happy, and the energy between them was electric in every scene.
“Ahhh, young love,” Max said with a grin as he walked off the set at lunchtime, having yelled “Cut! And print,” which meant he liked the last shot. He glanced over at Tanya, and realized that she looked even worse than he had first thought. He had never seen a human so pale. “Are you okay? If you're still sick, you don't have to come to work. We can call you at the hotel.”
“No, I'm fine. Just tired.”
“You lost a hell of a lot of weight.” He looked worried about her, and she was touched.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said vaguely, and pretended to concentrate on the script, as tears swam in her eyes. She didn't intend him to, but he saw them, and they spilled down her cheeks, as he quietly handed her a tissue.
“Looks like you had a fabulous time,” he said softly, as Harry watched the exchange with a puzzled look. Even he knew something was wrong.
“Yeah, really terrific.” She blew her nose and laughed through her tears, and then wiped her eyes. “Some vacations are less fun than others. This one wasn't so great.”
“This one must have been a lulu,” Max said dryly. “What did he do? Lock you in the dungeon and refuse to feed you? You know, there are 800 numbers you can call for that. I think the last one I called was 1â€800-D-I-V-O-R-C-E. It worked really well. They sent out a rescue truck and took the bitch away. Keep the number in mind in case he tries it again. Take your cell phone into the dungeon with you.” As he said it, she cried harder, and he handed her more tissues.
“It wasn't quite as bad as that.” And then she thought about it for a minute and was honest with herself. “Actually, it was worse. The whole damn vacation sucked, to tell the truth.” It felt good to say it to him.
“Sometimes holidays are like that. Mine usually are. It was nice this year spending it with my kids. Usually I volunteer in a soup kitchen or something. It makes me feel better to see people less fortunate than I, I realize I'm not so bad off. Maybe you should do something like that.” She nodded. “I'm sorry, Tanya,” he said in a soft, sympathetic voice, which only made her cry more. “Should I call a plumber? I think you have a busted pipe. You've sprung a hell of a leak there.” She was crying rivers, and he made her laugh again.
“I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I've been worse since I got back to L.A. Everything was so tense, and I had to put on a good front for the kids. Here, all I've done is cry since I got back last night.”
“As long as it helps. Big problems? Or small ones?”
“Big,” she said, looking him in the eye. Her eyes looked like bottomless pools of green pain. He hated to see it.
“Anything I can do to help?” She shook her head. “I figured. Maybe time will work it out.”
“Maybe.” If Peter was telling the truth, and Alice stayed away for long enough. And if she could get home on weekends. If not, God only knew what would happen, particularly once Alice got back. She didn't trust either of them anymore, and suspected she never would again, which was no way to be married. She looked at Max miserably and decided to confide in him. She hadn't told a soul since her discovery of Peter's affair. Her only confidants before that had been Peter and Alice. And she couldn't tell her kids. “I found out the day I got back to Marin, he had an affair with my best friend.” Her agony was in her eyes, as Max winced.
“Shit. That's nasty stuff. Did you walk in on them? I hope not.”
“No. I saw it in his eyes. I suspected it on Thanksgiving, but I don't think it had happened yet. Maybe I felt it coming.”
“Women are amazing about that. They always sense it. Guys never know for shit until it bites them on the ass. Women know. I hate that about them. You can never get away with anything. And then what happened?”
“We spent three awful weeks torturing each other. She went to Europe. And he says he won't start it again when she gets back. He claims it's over.”
“Do you believe him?” Max was flattered by her confidence. She trusted him, and valued his advice.
She shook her head in answer to his question. “Not anymore. And maybe never again. I'm afraid he'll go back to her when she gets home. He thinks I'll never come back from L.A. That I've got it under my skin, which is so unfair. He won't listen no matter what I say.”
“That's an excuse, Tan. If he wanted to make it work with you, he wouldn't care if you'd been a belly dancer in a harem, or had an affair with the King of England, or Donald Trump. Bottom line, if he wants to make it work, he would tell you to get your ass home when this is over, and forget Hollywood. Maybe he wants out. Or he's scared, or feels inadequate with you. Is she young?”
“No.” Tanya shook her head. “She's six years older than I am, two years older than him.”
“Then it must be love. No one goes after a woman two years older unless it is.” Max looked impressed.
“They're a lot alike, that's why I loved them both. She screwed me over totally. I think she went after him. She's been a widow for two years. And I'm gone all the time, as he pointed out. My kids think of her as an aunt. She gets along better with one of my daughters than I do. I think she was working it, and wanted him. My leaving to do this film is the best thing that ever happened to her. Shit luck for me.” He nodded, looking sympathetic.
; “What does he say?”
“That he ended it.”
“Does he say he loves her?”
“He says he doesn't know.”
“I hate guys like that,” Max said, looking annoyed. “Either he loves her or he doesn't. How the hell can he not know?”
“He says he loves me, too,” she said, blowing her nose again. “I'm not sure I even believe that anymore.” Tanya felt as though her whole life had been destroyed, and she looked it. And in fact, it had. Max felt very sorry for her. She was such a nice woman, and had talked about her husband so much, and how much she loved him. He knew it must be an awful blow for her. And a fatal blow to her marriage, too.
“I believe that he loves you, Tanya,” Max said thoughtfully, stroking his beard. He always did that when he was thinking. “I mean, what guy wouldn't? He'd have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to. And I also believe that he's confused. And probably loves you both, which is really pathetic of him, but it does happen. Men get mixed up a lot that way. That's why they have mistresses and wives.”
“Then what do they do?” she asked, feeling like a child as she listened to him.
“Depends on the guy. Some marry the mistress, some stay with the wife. He could be right about one thing, you know. You could outgrow him down here. I didn't think that would happen, and I figured you'd go scurrying back. But you never know, maybe you'll do another picture. Or maybe you'll dump his sorry ass if he dicks you around.” She smiled at what Max said.
“I'd still go home. I have no reason to stay here.”
“You could have a hell of a career in movies, if you wanted to. You did a great job with this screenplay. You're going to get a lot of offers after this picture is released. You'll have your pick if you want.”
“I don't. I like the life I had.”
“Then fight for it. Keep a leash on him. Go home. Kick his ass. Don't put up with any shit. And make him pay for what he just did. That's what my wives did to me when I got out of line.”
“And what did you do?” Tanya asked with interest.
“I divorced them as fast as I could. But my mistresses were always younger and cuter and a lot more fun.” They both laughed at his response. “In your case, if this guy has any brains, he'll hang on to you. If that's what you want, I hope he does. Has he ever done this before?” She shook her head. She did believe that. “Good. Then he's a virgin. He may never do it again. It could have been a one-time mistake. A slip. Just keep an eye on this woman, and don't believe a word either of them says. Trust your instincts, you'll never go wrong.”
“That's how I figured it out. I knew it the minute I saw them.”
“Good girl. Hang in. It may turn out okay. I'm sorry you had such a rough time.” She shrugged.
“Yeah. Me too. Thank you for listening.” As she said it, the dog barked and they both laughed again.
“He agrees with everything I say. He's a very smart dog.”
“And you're a very smart man, and a good friend,” she said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek, and Douglas walked by again.
“What are you two getting so cozy about?” He looked intrigued.
“She just proposed to me,” Max explained. “I told her she'd have to buy me. Six cows and a herd of goats, and a new Bentley. We were just concluding the negotiations. She's giving me a tough time about the goats. The Bentley was easy.” Douglas grinned, and Tanya laughed. She felt better after talking to Max.
“It looked pretty good to me this morning. What do you think?” Douglas asked him, and Max said he was pleased. The romance between Jean and Ned was working well for them. It had improved her performance immeasurably. It was a common thing. A lot of actors and actresses got involved during the shooting of a film. Kind of like shipboard romance. And when they docked, it was over. A few stuck, but most didn't. The cast was betting that this one wouldn't. Jean had a reputation for changing men like her shoes. And she had a lot of shoes. So did Ned. They were cut from the same cloth.
Douglas turned to Tanya then. “Do you want to grab something to eat tonight after we finish shooting? I want to talk to you about some changes in the script.” Tanya was tired, but she didn't think she should turn him down. Meetings with Douglas were command performances, even if they came in the guise of dinner.
“Sure, if I can look like this.” She didn't have the energy to go back to the hotel and change.
“You look fine,” he said, seeming not to notice. “We can go out for sushi or Chinese. I won't take long. I know you've been sick.” He had no reason to doubt it, she was very pale and had lost a lot of weight. She had no intention of telling him the truth.
They finished around eight o'clock that night. Douglas drove her to his favorite sushi bar, and she had her limo follow. He said he was going out afterward. Tanya was exhausted by the time they sat down to eat.
The changes he wanted to talk to her about were minimal. She was surprised he had wanted to do it over dinner. He said he wanted to catch up.
“So how was Christmas? Great with your kids?” he asked as they divided up the sushi and put it on their plates. He liked all the same ones she did.
“Yes, great,” she said, trying to convince herself, and forget what the vacation had really been like. “It was actually nice to come back to work today.” He watched her eyes as she said it, and saw something there.
“Why is it that I get the feeling there's trouble on the home front and you're lying to me? Tell me to mind my own business, if I'm too far off base.” She didn't want to confide in him, but she didn't have the energy to lie either. Maybe it didn't make any difference anymore.
“I'm not lying. I just don't want to talk about it,” she admitted to him. “To be honest, the holidays sucked.”
“That's too bad,” he said softly. “I was hoping I was wrong.” She wasn't sure if she believed him. He was such an advocate of her buying into the whole L.A. scene. But when he saw the devastation in her eyes, he felt sorry for her. “Serious stuff?”
“Maybe. Time will tell,” she said cryptically, and he nodded.
“I'm sorry, Tanya. I know how much your home life means to you. I assume it was a problem with your husband, not the kids.”
“Yes, it was. First time. It was kind of a shock.”
“It always is. No matter who you are. Trust issues. Relationships aren't easy, whether you're married or not.” He smiled at her over the last of their dinner. “That's why I avoid them at all costs. It's easier being a free agent, and keeping things light.” There was nothing light about her life, or her marriage, or the way she felt about Peter, and Douglas knew that. “I know that's not your style.”
“No, it's not,” she said with a sad smile. “I think coming down here put us to the test. It's a lot to ask to be gone for nine months, and only home for occasional weekends. It's been hard on Peter, and my girls. It's a shame it didn't happen next year. But it still would have been hard on him.”
“Maybe it will strengthen the marriage,” Douglas said as he paid the check. He didn't look as though he believed what he was saying, or even that he cared. Tanya was a foreign breed to him. He was fascinated by her, but he didn't really understand the value of the life she led, or why she wanted it so much. It sounded fatally boring and mundane to him. “Or maybe you'll find that you've outgrown each other,” he said carefully, “or that you've outgrown him.”
“I don't think that's the case,” Tanya said quietly. “I think this is just hard.” Harder yet now that Peter had added Alice to the mix. “We'll deal with it,” she said, and wished she was convinced. She was quiet as they left the restaurant, and stood on the sidewalk for a minute, discussing the script again, and then Douglas looked down at her gently.
“I'm sorry you're going through a hard time, Tanya.” This time he looked as though he meant it. He could see how upset she was, and he felt sorry for her. She was a nice person, and she looked genuinely pained. “It happens to us all. If I can do anything for you, let me know.”
&n
bsp; “I'd like to really try to get home for weekends for a while, without letting down anyone here.”
“I'll do what I can,” he said, and then got into his car as she got into her limo. He roared off in the Ferrari, and she went back to the hotel. She felt lonely when she walked into her bungalow. She missed Peter, and called him on his cell. He picked it up right away, as though he were waiting for her call.
“Oh…hi…,” he said, as though he was surprised that it was her, and her heart sank.
“Who did you think it was?” She was instantly suspicious now.
“I don't know … you, I guess. I was just talking to the girls.” She wondered if he had been expecting a call from Alice, or even someone else. She hated how she felt about him now. She distrusted his every word. “How was your day?”
“Long. We were on the set till eight. I just talked to Douglas about the script over sushi. They keep wanting more changes.” She was going to stay home in the morning to do the work he wanted. The next three months until they finished the film looked like an endless stretch of road ahead of her. And two months of postproduction made it seem like an eternity until she could be home full-time again. She had no idea if their marriage would hold up to the strain. She was beginning to doubt it. She felt sick when she thought of the months ahead, and what Peter and Alice had done. She had never expected this to happen. She had thought they were solidly married forever, and now everything was up in the air. Even though Peter had agreed to end the affair with Alice, Tanya was terrified the damage he had done was too great. “How was your day?” She tried to sound normal when she talked to him, but nothing felt right anymore. They felt awkward with each other, and her voice was filled with pain.
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