Once in a Lifetime

by Steel, Danielle

  "I need time to think, Daff." He looked suddenly very quiet.

  "About what?" She was startled. It was the first time she'd heard that.

  "About us."

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No. But this is an enormous commitment. I've never gotten married, and before I tie myself down for good, I want some time alone." It almost sounded right, but not quite, and she didn't really buy it.

  "Well, your timing stinks. Couldn't you wait until next week?"

  "I don't think so."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm not sure I'm ready to meet your son." It was painful, but honest. "I don't know what to say to a deaf kid."

  "You start with hello." Her eyes were cold and hurt and empty. She was sick and tired of his neurotic games about Andrew. And maybe Andrew was only the excuse. Maybe he didn't really want her. Maybe he didn't want anyone in his life except cocktail waitresses and starlets. Maybe that was all he was up to. He was suddenly diminishing in her eyes at a frightening rate, like a balloon with a hole the size of a fist in it.

  "I just don't know how to talk to your kid. I've seen people like that, they make me nervous."

  "He lip-reads and he talks."

  "But not like a normal human being." She suddenly hated him for what he was saying, and she turned her back on him and looked out the window. All she could think of now was Andrew. She didn't need this man. She needed her son, and no one else. She turned to him.

  "All right, never mind, dammit, go."

  "I knew you'd understand." He sounded perfectly happy and she shook her head in amazement. He understood nothing of what she felt. None of the disappointment or the hatred or the hurt he had just inflicted on her.

  And then, suddenly, she wondered about something. "Just when did you make these plans?"

  At last he looked somewhat embarrassed, but not very. "A couple of days ago."

  She stared at him for a long moment. "And you didn't tell me?" He shook his head. "You stink." She slammed the bedroom door and slept that night in Barbara's bedroom, which she no longer used. She had moved in with Tom, and she came in every day, as she had in New York.

  The next morning Daphne got up when she heard Justin making breakfast, and she walked into the kitchen to find him already dressed. She sat staring at him as he poured them each a cup of coffee. He looked relaxed and happy and she looked at him in open disbelief.

  "You know, I just can't believe you'd do this."

  "Don't turn it into a major crisis, Daff. It's not such a big deal."

  "To me it is." And she knew that to the others it would seem like one too. How was she going to explain his disappearance? Thanksgiving bored him so he'd gone skiing instead? She was suddenly grateful that she had said nothing at all to Andrew. She had been planning to have a talk with him on the way in from the airport. But now she wouldn't have to. Their meeting was going to have to wait until Christmas, if Justin didn't pull another disappearing act then. She was beginning to wonder about him, and as she watched him eat eggs and toast, she had an unpleasant thought.

  "Are you going alone?"

  "That's a strange question." He kept his eyes on his eggs.

  "Then it's appropriate, Justin. You're a strange man." He looked up at her then and saw something unpleasant in her eyes. She was not only angry at him, she was livid. And she was looking for points against him. It startled him to realize that about her. But he didn't realize how deeply he had hurt her. In rejecting Andrew, he had rejected her. In fact it was worse, but he didn't understand that.

  "Yes, I'm going alone. I told you, I need some time to think up in the mountains."

  "I need some time to think too."

  "What about?" He actually looked surprised.

  "You." She sighed then. "If you aren't going to make the effort to get to know Andrew, this isn't going to work out." Not to mention the fact that if he ran off and did exactly what he pleased whenever he felt like it, it wouldn't suit her either. She hadn't a chance to see that side of him yet. They had been too busy working on the movie but now new sides of him were coming out. Sides that she suspected she couldn't live with. He disappeared for endless hours at times, never showed up when he said he was going to, and had a slapdash, easygoing way about him that he insisted was the only way he could balance the discipline and tension he felt when he was working. She had made excuses to herself, but suddenly she was no longer inclined to.

  He tried to kiss her when he left, but she turned away and walked back into the house. And when Barbara arrived, she found Daphne in her study, lost in thought. Daphne looked a million miles away and Barbara had to speak to her twice before she heard her.

  "I just picked up the turkey. Biggest mother you've ever seen." She grinned. But there was no response at first and then Daphne seemed to force herself back to the present.

  "Hi, Barb."

  "You seem far away. Already thinking about the new book?"

  "Sort of." But Barbara hadn't seen that vague, trancelike state in a long time.

  "Where's Justin?"

  "Out." She didn't have the heart to tell her yet, but before she left for the airport to pick up Andrew, she decided she had to. She couldn't keep up the game forever, and why should she? She didn't owe it to him to make him look good. "Barb, Justin's not coming to Thanksgiving dinner." Daphne looked grim.

  "He's not?" She looked as though she hadn't understood. "Did you two have a fight?"

  "Sort of. But not until after he told me he was going skiing for the next week instead of staying for Thanksgiving."

  "Are you kidding?"

  "No. And I don't want to discuss it." And the look on her face told Barbara that she meant it. She locked herself in her study then until it was time to go to the airport.

  Daphne drove to the airport alone, her face set in a grim expression. She parked her car in the garage, and walked to the gate, her mind still reeling about Justin's behavior. He had simply, flatly, walked out to do his own thing, as he pleased, without giving a damn about what mattered to her. And she was still running the exchange over again and again in her head as they announced Andrew's flight and she waited for the plane to pull into the gate. But when it did, suddenly all thoughts of Justin vanished. It was as though suddenly he no longer mattered, and everything came back into perspective. All that mattered was Andrew.

  She felt her heart begin to beat faster as people came off the plane, and then in the midst of the crowd she saw him, holding a stewardess's hand, his eyes busily searching for her, and for an instant she was too stricken to move. This was the child Justin had rejected. This was the child she had built her whole life on. She began to move toward him then, no obstacle could stop her.

  He saw her as she approached, and wrenched himself free from the flight attendant, running into her arms with the little sound he made when he was most pleased, and her whole life seemed to well up and spill from her eyes. He was all she had left from a lifetime of loss, and in truth he was the only human being who truly loved her. She clung to him like a life raft in the milling crowd, and when he looked up at her face it was drenched with tears as she smiled at him.

  "It's so good to have you back." She mouthed carefully at him and he smiled in answer.

  "It'll be gooder when you come home."

  "Much," she agreed. And she suspected that that might come sooner than she had planned. They went to pick up his bags hand in hand and she seemed reluctant to let go of him even for a moment.

  He had lots to tell her on the drive to her house, even a casual mention of Matthew's new girl friend, which, for some reason, cut her to the quick. She didn't want to hear about that now.

  "She comes to see him at the school every Sunday. She's pretty and she laughs a lot. She has red hair and she brings us all candy."

  Daphne wanted to be pleased for Matthew, but somehow she wasn't. And she made no answer as they drove home, and the conversation moved on to other subjects. They had lots to do when they got to the house, they
swam and talked and played cards, and Daphne began to feel herself return to the land of the living. They barbecued chicken in the backyard, and at last she put him to bed. He was yawning and could hardly stay awake, but he looked at her questioningly before she turned out the light.

  "Mom, does someone else live here?"

  "No. Why? Aunt Barbara used to."

  "I mean a man."

  "What makes you ask that?" She felt her heart skip a beat.

  "I found some man's clothes in your closet."

  "They belong to the people who own the house."

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and then, "Are you mad at Matt?"

  "Of course not." She looked surprised. "Why would you ever think that?"

  His eyes searched her face. Andrew was a very perceptive child. He was eight years old now, no longer a baby. "I thought you got mad when I talked about his girl friend."

  "Don't be silly. He's a nice man, he should have a nice lady."

  "I think he likes you."

  "We're good friends." But she was suddenly dying to ask him what made him think so.

  As though he read her mind, he answered with sleepy signs. "He talks about you a lot, and he always looks happy when you call. Happier than when Harriet comes to visit on Sundays."

  "That's silly." She smiled, brushing it off, but in some secret place in her heart she was pleased. "Go to sleep now, sweetheart. We have a big day ahead tomorrow." He nodded and his eyes were closed before she turned off the light, and went into her room, thinking of Matthew. She realized then that she still had to call him to tell him Andrew was all right. As usual, he answered his private line on the second ring.

  "How's our friend? Safely arrived?"

  "Very much so. And full of mischief."

  "That's nothing new." Matthew smiled. "He's just like his mother. And how are you?"

  "Okay. Getting ready for Thanksgiving." The conversations were always more impersonal now. Things were different since the advent of Justin and Harriet Bateau, particularly lately.

  "Are you having a big turkey dinner at home?"

  "I am." There was a moment's hesitation in her voice, but she decided not to tell him. It wasn't his problem that Justin had skipped out, and maybe it didn't matter anymore that Justin refused to relate to Andrew. But she didn't want to drag Matthew into her decision, and she was beginning to think about going home. "What about you, Matt?"

  "I'll be here."

  "You won't be with your sister?"

  "I didn't want to leave the kids." And Harriet? But she didn't dare ask him that. If he wanted her to know more, he'd tell her. And he didn't. "Are you coming to New York one of these days, Daff?" He sounded like the old Matt as he said it, and there was something lonely and gentle in his voice, but Daphne only sighed.

  "I don't know. I've been thinking a lot about mat." It was time to make some decisions, and she knew it. "I'm taking Andrew to visit the L.A. school next week." At least that was what she'd been planning. But that was before Justin had shown his colors and gone to Tahoe.

  "You'll love it. It's a great place." But he sounded sad nonetheless. "Everyone sure would miss him here."

  "You'll be gone anyway, won't you, Matt?"

  But suddenly he sounded vague. "I'm not sure." Was he staying in New Hampshire then? Was it serious with Harriet Bateau after all? She felt a sinking sensation as she realized that was probably the case. What did Andrew know? He was only eight years old. Maybe Matthew was thinking of getting married.

  "Let me know what you're going to do."

  "You too."

  She wished him a happy Thanksgiving then, and forcing herself not to think of Justin, she went to bed. The phone rang at midnight and woke her. It was Justin, happily ensconced in Squaw Valley, he told her, but the place where he was staying didn't have a phone. He started to tell her about the snow and how much he missed her, and then suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, he told her that he was freezing in an open phone booth, and had to hang up. And Daphne sat up in bed, staring at the phone, confused by the phone call. Why had he called her like that? And if he'd been freezing, why had he been so chatty before? She decided that she didn't understand anything about him, and forcing him from her mind once again, she went back to sleep, and oddly enough that night she dreamed of Matthew.

  Thanks to Barbara and Tom's daughter, Alex, the Thanksgiving dinner turned out better than Daphne had dreamed. The three women worked together in the kitchen talking and laughing, and Tom and both boys putted golf balls around on the lawn. He was amazed at how bright Andrew was and how funny he could be, even with his stilted speech. He discovered that he had a wonderful sense of humor, and when Daphne said grace before they began dinner, she felt more grateful than she had in years. Everyone ate tons of food, and sat by the fire after they were finished, and the Harrington troupe was sorry to leave when the time came. Both the teen-agers kissed Daphne and hugged Andrew, and he promised to come visit them at their pool the next day, which they did. It was a comfortable, relaxed weekend, and other than missing Justin, Daphne was perfectly happy. The night before Andrew was to leave, Justin called her to check in, but hung up abruptly again, which annoyed Daphne. She didn't understand why he'd call, only to hang up a few minutes later. It didn't make any sense, at least not to her, but she thought about it at night after Andrew went to bed, and then suddenly it dawned on her. It was as though someone had approached him, and he'd hung up before he was found out. Suddenly she knew, and she sat up in bed livid. It was hours before she fell asleep. In the morning she was busy with Andrew. She put him on the plane and called Matt, and then went back to the house. For the next three days she tried to work on her new book, but nothing would come. All she could think about was Justin.

  He drove in about two in the morning. He opened the front door with his key, propped his skis up in the hall, and then walked into the bedroom. He expected Daphne to be asleep, and was surprised when he saw her sitting up in bed with a book. She lifted her eyes to his without a word and looked at him. "Hi, babe, what are you doing up?" "I was waiting for you." But there was no warmth in her voice. "That's nice. Your kid get off okay?" "Fine, thanks. And his name's Andrew." "Oh, Christ." He knew then what he had in store. Another speech about Thanksgiving, but he was wrong. She had other things on her mind. "Who were you with in Squaw Valley?" "A mountain full of people I didn't know." He sat down and pulled off his boots. After a twelve-hour drive he was in no mood for her interrogation. "Could we just let it go until tomorrow?"

  "No. I don't think we can."

  "Well, I'm going to bed."

  "Are you? Where?"

  "Here. Last I heard I lived here." He stared at her from across the room. "Or has my address changed?"

  "Not yet, but I think it might if you don't answer some questions. Honestly, for a change."

  "Look, Daff, I told you ... I needed to think...." But as he spoke the phone rang, and Daphne picked it up. She was instantly afraid that something was wrong with Andrew. Why else would anyone call at two thirty in the morning? But it wasn't Matt at the other end, it was a woman's voice, and she asked to speak to Justin. Without another word Daphne handed it to Justin.

  "It's for you."

  Slamming the door, she left the room, and he found her in her study a few minutes later. "Look, Daphne, please, I know how this looks but..."

  And then, suddenly, as he stood there, tired from the trip, he realized that the pretense was too much trouble. He was too tired for more lies. His voice was quiet as he sat down. "All right, Daphne. You're right. I went skiing with Alice."

  "Who the hell is that?

  "The girl from Ohio." He sounded desperately tired. "It doesn't mean a hell of a lot, she likes to ski, so do I, I didn't want to stay here for your little family event, so I took her up there for a week. That's all there was to it." To him it was normal.

  There was no point fighting it anymore. It wasn't going to work. It was all over. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, a
nd she felt so disillusioned that it was like a piece of her had been removed-- the piece that loved him. "Justin, I can't do this anymore."

  "I know. And I can't do it to you. I'm not made for this kind of thing, Daff."

  "I know." She began to cry and he came to her.

  "It's not that I don't love you. I do, but in my way, and my way is different from yours. Too different. I don't think I could ever be what you want. You want an honest-to-God regular husband. That's not me." She nodded and turned her face away.

  "It's all right. I understand. You don't have to explain."

  "Will you be okay?"

  She nodded as the tears flowed, looking up at him, he was even more beautiful with his mountain tan, but that's all he was, all he had ever been, pretty to look at. Howard Stern had been right, he was a beautiful, spoiled child, who did exactly what he wanted in life, no matter who it hurt, or what it cost.

  When she saw that he was going, for a mad instant she wanted to beg him not to go, to stay, that they could work it out, but she knew that they wouldn't. "Justin?" The whole question was in the single word.

  He nodded. "Yes. I think I'll go."

  "Now?" Her voice trembled. She felt lonely and frightened. She had brought it to this, but there was no other way and she knew it.

  "It's better like this. I'll pick up my stuff tomorrow."

  It had to end sometime and the time was now. He looked down at her with a sad smile. "I love you, Daff."

  "Thanks."

  They were empty words coming from him, he was an empty man. And then the door closed and he was gone, and she sat alone in her study, crying. For the third time in her life she had lost, but this time for very different reasons. And she had lost someone who didn't really love her. He was capable of loving no one but himself. He had never loved Daphne. And as she grieved through the night she wondered if that was worse or better.