Adventures of Pebble Beach
Page 5
“Mel?” replied Molly, both puzzled and jealous at the same time.
Pebble’s favorite uncle, Mel, the one who worked at Young & Rubicam in New York, was Molly’s younger brother.
Then Molly added, trying to hide her annoyance, “Well if you need Mel, call him. You know he always loves to hear from you.” Molly was hurt – to think that Pebble would rather talk to her kid brother. Actually Mel (who was 10 years younger than Molly) and Pebble had been extremely close throughout Pebble’s childhood. Mel often took Pebble for long walks in Central Park and it was around the time when Mel was 25, Pebble was 10 that he started calling her Pebble Beach. At first it was a tease, but for some reason, the name stuck. Up until then, Morris and Molly’s high-spirited daughter had been Marsha to the world, but pretty soon everyone called her Pebble. Nobody ever knew why. But the truth was it all started with Mel, who once fell in love with the small ocean community on the West Coast overlooking the Pacific Ocean called Pebble Beach…
“Einar wanted me to give him some inside information about a competitor I’m doing a campaign for,” Pebble continued, realizing she’d offended Molly by mentioning Mel. “It was a totally unethical thing to do. I was shocked, but I can’t afford to alienate Einar. He could ruin my career.”
Molly listened with satisfaction. Mel might be a bigwig on Madison Avenue, but she was no dope either. The fact that Pebble was telling her all this confirmed it, too. Molly felt it was of the utmost importance to help Pebble deal with this situation – without Mel – or Morris, for that matter. In the old days, in situations like this, it would have been the men of the world, who’d know what to do. But times were changing and Molly felt herself growing with her daughter.
“Would you consider working for Einar?”
“God, Mother, it’s such an opportunity. I might never get a chance like this again. But you know when I was out with him, I just hated the man…and he’s so ugly.” Pebble didn’t know how to explain her exasperation.
Molly laughed.
“Why couldn’t he just be handsome and single?”
Molly kept on laughing; it relieved some of the tension and brought them closer together.
Pebble reached out and took her mother’s hand. Molly’s hands were so wrinkled, they could have used a facelift too, but Pebble loved them just the way they were. Even the bright red nails and expensive rings couldn’t change her mother’s hands.
There was a tender moment between them.
Suddenly Pebble thought, What will I do when she dies? Pebble knew the world would look different without Molly. Molly had given her the opposition she needed to define herself. She’d been a mirror for Pebble, showing her, without mercy, the life she could have had and the success she never achieved. Molly represented all the pleasures and comforts Pebble missed along the way while she was out chasing adventure.
The thought of losing Molly terrified Pebble, even if she vividly recalled times when she bitterly disliked her mother. Still Pebble knew that – face-lifted or not – Molly would have to move on just like everybody else. It was hard to accept, now that they were finally finding each other again.
Why am I thinking like this? thought Pebble, not wanting to contemplate life without Molly any further. “You know, Mom, the thing about Einar is…well…he’s just so ugly that it’s hard to imagine him if you’ve never seen him.”
Molly laughed again and Pebble enjoyed the warmth that radiated across the table. She changed the subject quickly, wanting to preserve the magic harmony which flowed between them. We’ve had enough of Einar and Albert! Let’s talk about something fun! Pebble had the perfect topic – the one that was Molly’s absolute favorite – the one that was all the way up on the top of her hit list – Pebble’s ex-husband! Talking about Slim absolutely fascinated Molly. She could talk about Slim for hours on end and enjoy every minute of it. Pebble’s divorce was perfect for another reason, too – no matter what was said both mother and daughter were in total agreement, down to the most insignificant detail. To hear Molly tell it, she’d never been in doubt about Slim – not from the moment she laid eyes on him. Molly claimed he was a male-chauvinist pig, which was a very strong opinion for Molly. She was also convinced (and no ifs, ands or buts about it!) that Slim had taken advantage of Pebble’s good-natured naivety right from the start. Now, looking back, Pebble tended to agree. So when Pebble said, “Slim…” the conversation really perked up. Suddenly the possibilities were infinite. Whatever they said, it was bound to be enjoyable. Both mother and daughter sighed with relief. Many moments of unlimited harmony were right down the road! Not only was Slim poor, but believe it or not, Molly never approved of the old-fashioned way he’d treated Pebble Beach.
“He was a true European,” was Molly’s standard refrain. “He never let you use your talents.” No matter how many times she said it, the thought incensed Molly. Having a male-chauvinist pig for a son-in-law infuriated her. It was totally irrelevant that Morris treated Molly in exactly the same way. All Molly could see was that Slim prevented her precious daughter from becoming a success. “Just think of where you’d be today if you’d been using your talents all along,” Molly fumed, “instead of waiting on him, hand and foot.”
It was funny hearing all that stuff from Molly. Pebble smiled. Suddenly lunch was fun. Albert was forgotten (for the moment) and Einar Bro was put on hold. Molly was a real paradox. An opinionated old woman who’d never once stepped out of her glass cage. She had no idea what it was like to survive out there, no conception of what women faced. Still she was fierce when it came to her daughter. Even Pebble understood that Molly reacted like this because she wanted more for her daughter than she’d had. She wanted Pebble to be a woman in her own right, not the shadow of some incompetent man. Molly simply couldn’t imagine Pebble not being a success. The grief of watching Pebble trapped in a long, lousy marriage had been hard to bear. Now at least, Pebble was free, so Molly fought desperately to keep her from getting involved with the wrong man again. Besides, Pebble didn’t seem to understand that she didn’t have forever. Molly was acutely aware of the fact that time was running out, but she didn’t know how to explain it to her daughter. Life looks incredibly short when you’re 68, but the message was hard to pass on to a daughter whose juices were flowing. So Molly stuck to their standard routine: Slim, which was quite okay because Slim turned out to be such a good subject. The list of grievances against her daughter’s ex-husband had this curious way of growing. Just when they finally thought they’d exhausted the matter, new items popped up. And there was so much room for improvisation! Once they got going even standard items, like what a lousy father Slim had been, could always be expanded upon. So actually, Slim, in spite of all his failings as a husband, turned out to be a divine gift as far as this mother/daughter relationship was concerned! Instead of eating their hearts out talking about the past or worrying about the future, Slim provided these two women not only with a lot of laughs but with ample opportunity for cosmic understanding. So much so, that even the most casual observer could not fail to notice how well this mother and daughter seemed to be getting along.
Chapter 4
Later that afternoon, after Molly had slept off some of her jet lag, she happened to answer the phone for Pebble who was working on a draft for the WonderLift campaign. It was Einar Bro. Molly spoke to him as if he was an old friend. It was an easy thing for her to do, being American (Scandinavians are notably intro-verted) and quite innocent when it came to the ways of the business world. She ended up inviting Einar to Pebble’s apartment that evening for a drink.
“Oh no,” groaned Pebble Beach, resting her head in her hands when her mother came into her office and told her the news. “How could you, Mother?” The walls of her tiny office were off-white and a large bulletin board was cluttered with notes and reminders. Pebble couldn’t believe her mother had been so dumb. Einar Bro in her apartment? She was aghast at the thought.
“He sounds like a perfectly charming man,” replied
Molly, not at all moved by her daughter’s obvious distress. “I’d love to meet him.” She concentrated on her red nails; one was chipped and needed a touchup.
“But, Mother, I work for the man, and he’s married and he put his hand on my thigh the other night! Didn’t you hear a word of what I told you at lunch?”
When that didn’t sink in, Pebble added, “Mother, do you remember that I said he was talking about offering me a job!” Pebble was so angry that the real reason came out, too, “Damn,” she pounded her table, “I just don’t want that man in my apartment! Can’t you understand that? I mean he’s so rich, he lives in this gorgeous house up on the coast, north of Copenhagen.”
“Oh, Pebble, don’t be ridiculous, your apartment is perfectly lovely! You’ve fixed it up so tastefully, I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“But, he’s not supposed to know how poor I am. It only puts me at a disadvantage,” Pebble groaned, thinking her mother had no brains at all. “Weren’t you listening when I told you he asked me to give him secret information about a competitor? God, Mother.”
Molly wasn’t interested. She tossed her head, turned and walked out of Pebble’s office and headed towards the kitchen to make coffee. Maybe Pebble’s getting her period, she thought, not used to seeing her daughter in such a huff. Molly thought inviting Einar Bro was a positively brilliant idea. She wanted to meet the man. Of course, she’d heard every word of Pebble’s story about Einar. In fact, Molly had listened very carefully. She thought the man sounded like an appropriate challenge for Pebble. And quite possibly a good match, too. As far as Molly was concerned, there was only one real problem –Einar’s wife. But the fact that he’d already shown serious interest in Pebble, was considering hiring her, and was such a rich and powerful person on the Copenhagen advertising scene, intrigued Molly. If there was one thing this mother wanted to do for her daughter, it was to show her, somehow, that she was capable of living the life Molly thought she deserved.
Molly was an absolute miracle that evening when Einar arrived. For a moment, Pebble thought that it was Molly, not herself, who was hunting for a husband. Molly looked younger than her 68 years, her silver gray hair, thick and wavy, and her movements light and airy. Her face-lifted face radiated energy. She positively sparkled in a bright red cashmere dress. Pebble was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. She’d worked almost straight through on her WonderLift draft until Einar arrived. She really didn’t have an evening to pull out of her calendar, so she felt her work clothes were justified.
Once she calmed down, Molly told Pebble not to worry about the arrangements. Molly prepared dinner and straightened up the apartment for the honored guest. In a few short hours, Molly transformed Pebble’s cozy but messy apartment into the attractive, artful place she claimed Pebble was living in. While Pebble worked on (she’d promised Peter Cato a first draft by Monday), Molly had not only cleaned the apartment, she had bought flowers and arranged them tastefully on the coffee table. When Jon and Adam arrived home for their usual late dinner, they were stunned by the change and asked Pebble what was going on.
Both laughed when they heard.
“Why didn’t you just tell her you don’t want Einar coming here?” demanded Jon. He was into honesty. He was wearing a flowered shirt with the appropriate tears in it and baggy trousers. He looked gorgeous anyway. Sometimes Pebble saw a trace of Slim in his slender face, but it didn’t change a thing.
“I did,” replied Pebble, hoping her son would understand her predicament, “but Molly had already invited him, without asking me. And he said yes.”
“So call him up and tell him you don’t want him to come.”
“Sure,” said Pebble, who went back to her room to finish touching up her make-up. “Teenagers, even gorgeous teenagers, are hopeless,” she muttered under her breath and felt like nobody was on her side.
The evening started out beautifully. Molly lit two candles and placed them on the coffee table so their light flickered and made the roses look even redder in Pebble’s white living room. When Einar arrived, she served coffee in Pebble’s delicate rose-colored cups and talked a blue streak. Sometimes Einar looked at Pebble with special eyes, but Pebble tried not to notice. Molly talked about New York and her brother Mel and Young & Rubicam and how talented Pebble had been as a child.
“Mel always said Pebble would be a great copywriter,” Molly said, swelling with pride. “Actually I always thought he was grooming her for Young & Rubicam, until she went off to Europe and never came back. It was such a disappointment for Mel.”
Pebble drank her coffee and cognac and listened, wondering if she really was the talented star her mother and Mel thought she was. Maybe that’s why Einar’s always hanging around. Listening to Molly was a real eye-opener. Her mother had an answer for everything. Sometimes it seems like everybody in the world knows more about what’s good for me than I do myself, she thought. It had been that way with her ex-husband, too. He firmly believed, in spite of the enormous amount of energy Pebble spent trying to convince him otherwise, that all the decisions he made were right for her, which was probably why Pebble fiercely disliked people who proclaimed to know what was good for her. Pebble came close to hating both Molly and Einar that night, too.
“Tell me about the Republic Group,” Molly asked.
“Well, besides a few of the bigger American agencies like Young & Rubicam, we’re probably one of the top groups in Scandinavia.”
Molly was suitably impressed. “My brother probably knows all about the Republic Group. I’ll have to ask him about you when I get back to New York.” Having a brother like Mel made Molly close to being an expert.
“Well you may have heard of our president, Thomas Nielsen,” Einar said quietly.
“Thomas Nielsen?” Molly almost shrieked with joy. “Why, isn’t he the one who just spoke at the Guggenheim about European advertising?”
Einar smiled. “That was him. I guess you could call him the grand old man of Scandinavian advertising. He really doesn’t have much to do with running the Republic Group on a day-to-day basis, but it’s nice having him on our board.”
“I see,” Molly said with just the right amount of awe, “but I suppose he doesn’t have to worry with a vice-president like you, Einar.”
Pebble almost cringed. Mother, please stop! she shrieked inside.
Fortunately Einar changed the subject. “I think your brother Mel was absolutely right about Pebble. A talented woman like your daughter should go far in this business.” Pebble noticed there were no beads of sweat on Einar’s forehead as he spoke. She remembered his hand on her thigh that night at the Hotel D’Angleterre. Outside she heard the winter wind howling as the clock ticked on the wall and sounds of TV drifted in from Adam’s room.
“What Pebble needs is a mentor,” Molly was saying, “that’s what my brother’s always said. Someone wise enough to channel all her creativity in the right direction.”
“Mother, please,” Pebble was not only embarrassed, she was quite sure the evening would end in disaster.
“I like strong-headed women like Pebble,” Einar replied, sipping his coffee and chuckling, “but Pebble’s going to have to be strong-headed, not to mention pig-headed, if she thinks she can keep on working for me and for one of my competitors…at the same time.”
“Oh come on, Einar, I’m a freelancer.” There was frustration in her voice. She wished she hadn’t said it like that. She didn’t want Einar to know how ill at ease she was.
The phone rang and Pebble heard Jon answering it down the hall.
“Mom, it’s for you. It’s Albert.”
“Albert?”
Pebble was so surprised that she knocked over her glass of cognac as she stood up.
“I’ll take it in my room,” she called back to Jon. “Excuse me.”
Molly didn’t look at all pleased as Pebble dashed off to her room, nor did Einar.
But Pebble didn’t care. Calls from Greenland were extremely rare. Albert didn’t seem to be
a big fan of phone conversations but this time, they managed to talk for 20 minutes, even though Pebble thought the conversation was far too short. She was hoping he’d be more romantic, but he wasn’t. There was never enough time when your lover was off somewhere on the other side of the moon. But he wanted her to visit him soon; he was sending her a plane ticket. She was going to go to Greenland, somewhere she’d never been. It was almost too much on top of the cognac and Molly and Einar. But by the time she emerged from her room, her cheeks burning with desire, she’d almost forgotten Einar and her career.
The living room was empty. Einar was gone.
Molly was out in the kitchen putting the coffee cups into the dishwasher and fuming.
“Where’s Einar?” asked Pebble innocently.
“You couldn’t expect the man to just sit there and wait while you talked for hours with some man on Greenland!”
“I didn’t talk for hours, Mother, even if I’d have liked to.”
“It was inexcusable, that’s what it was. And don’t you come crying to me if Einar doesn’t offer you that job. How could you be so dumb?”
“I never said I wanted that job, it’s you who’s trying to organize my life…” Pebble stormed out of the kitchen and slumped into her blue sofa. Give me a break. She wanted to be alone and savor the sound of Albert’s voice. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be on her way. All she had to do was finish her assignment for Fem-Ads, get Molly off to New York, and…
God how could she ever wait? Molly would be insufferable now. Between Einar’s visit and Albert’s phone call, she’d never hear the end of it.
Chapter 5
It was 29 degrees below zero, or so the captain said, when Pebble Beach landed in Søndre Strømfjord, Greenland. Dreams of romance prevailed. Our heroine had managed to pack Molly off to New York again, finish the first draft of the campaign for Fem-Ads, and send a hefty invoice. Having survived both her mother’s visit and Einar Bro, Pebble decided that it was time to pay serious attention to the dictates of her aging body and not worry about her future or her bank account for a while. So in spite of Molly’s dire predictions (and they occurred regularly during her five-day stay in Copenhagen), Pebble Beach was now proceeding steadfastly (and innocently) in search of one more thrill.