Chapter 23
As usual, the phone rang at precisely nine that Sunday night. "Hi, darling," Anne said, answering on the first ring.
"How'd you know it was me?" David asked.
"What makes you think I knew it was you?" she said, laughing. "Maybe I thought it was someone else, my latest boyfriend, perhaps."
"Ah, but I know you don't love anyone but me."
"Right you are, you big stinker."
"And who else calls you at exactly nine o'clock every Sunday night?" He paused. "Don't forget Mark's coming home Saturday. You put the Fourth of July party on your calendar, didn't you? That's Saturday night."
"Yep. Sounds wonderful."
"Can you make it a little early, say Friday afternoon?"
"Sure, I'll take the day off, and that way I can miss some of the weekend traffic. See you about four-thirty on Friday."
She itched to see him. They had become more and more comfortable with one another and could talk about almost anything. It was sad to think he could never again make love to her, because she believed they could have made it work if he were able to have sex, no matter what he said. She couldn't let the situation get her down, though. She was grateful for whatever she could have of him.
The week seemed to drag by. When Friday came at last, she gave instructions to the nurse who would stay with her mother, put her suitcase in the trunk of her car, and headed for Palm Desert. As she sped along, she played her favorite music, singing along with Luciano Pavarotti and Placido Domingo.
Waves of heat radiated over the hood of her car, creating small mirages, puddles of water in the middle of the road, where she knew there were none, each disappearing as she moved closer. Traffic was surprisingly light, so she arrived early.
The temperature was 114 degrees, typical for any July day in the desert, but the dry heat didn't bother her like the heat in Houston. In the desert, her perspiration evaporated, cooling her body.
When she pulled into David's driveway, he was in the front yard, feeding the feral cats that lived in the desert across the street. He bent down to pet a longhaired black and white cat. When he saw Anne, he quietly backed away, stood up, and came to greet her.
"Did you see that?" he said. "It’s the first time that little fellow has let anyone touch him. Too bad the mama cat isn't here with her kittens. I'd love for you to see them. Maybe they'll show up tomorrow. Come on in," he said, opening the door. "I have a surprise for you, if you don't mind another ride. We're going up to the house in the high desert."
"Your grandma's house?"
"Yes. I still own it and use it for weekends sometimes, when I feel like roughing it. Come on, we'll go up the back road and put out food and water for the little animals up there."
They loaded seed, carrots, and a container of chicken liver into David's car.
"Chicken liver?" Anne said. "What's that for?"
"Roadrunners. They love it."
They headed up the mountain road toward the high desert, singing as they went. "Remember this?" David said, launching into "Some Enchanted Evening," in his rich baritone.
She laughed. "Oh, yes. We used to sing the entire South Pacific score on the way to Kansas City. Remember how we liked to get all dressed up? We were so vain; didn't you just love it when people looked at us?"
"They still do," he said. "We're pretty darned cute."
"Yeah, I guess they do sometimes, but it's not the same now."
"Well, nothing lasts forever, except us."
She took his hand and squeezed it.
After they had driven thirty minutes or so, he said, "Here we are," and swung into a narrow sand track between the Joshua trees.
Once they rounded a bend, she could see the house where he had taken her the summer when she was nineteen to meet his grandmother. The small stone structure looked just the same, and the porch swing was still there.
"I'll never forget sitting out here that night," she said, pointing to the swing. "Do you realize it was the Fourth of July when you first brought me out here exactly thirty-six years ago tomorrow? My God, the memories. Can we go inside?"
The house was virtually unchanged, with its big stone fireplace and beamed ceiling. Though the furniture was new, his grandmother's walnut pump organ still stood on the wall opposite the entrance.
And the little bedroom where Anne and Connie had slept was the same except for the curtains and the quilts on the beds. Her eyes welled up when she thought of the hopes she had that summer. She never thought she would see the place again.
"Let's go feed the animals," he called from the kitchen.
"Okay, be right there, darling," she said, quickly wiping her eyes.
Outside, David put out several containers of water and scattered seed and carrots. He placed the chicken livers to one side. "Shhh, sit down there in the shade and watch." Soon chipmunks and ground squirrels dashed out and began to eat and drink.
"Look, there's a packrat," he whispered, pointing to a little animal furiously gnawing on a huge carrot. "They're so smart." Look, he's chewing the carrot in half so he can handle it better."
The packrat finished chewing the carrot in half, and then dragged one part behind a cactus. In a second, it came back to pull the other piece of carrot off to its hiding place.
Suddenly, a roadrunner appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and began to bolt down the liver. Anne was surprised at how big the bird was. By accident, she got a chance to see the roadrunner's famous speed when she sneezed. The bird shot off so fast it was almost a blur, prompting the other animals to take off in all directions.
"David," she said, "that was just like in the cartoons."
As they walked back to the house, she noticed he had trimmed down, and his shorts were baggy. She thought he looked perfect. "Darling," she said, "have you been on a diet?"
"Yeah," he said, wiping his forehead. "I've got some commercials coming up, and they said I needed to lose some of those chocolate-chip cookies around my middle." He grinned at her slyly.
"I thought so. You're looking great."
"Thanks. And so are you. Not much different than when we first came here to meet my grandma. Remember?"
"Only now I'm the grandma," she said, laughing. "I know it was a long time ago, but it doesn't really seem like it, does it?"
He came and put his arms around her, and they stood in the shade of the wide front porch for some time, just holding one another. So many emotions bombarded her that she didn't know what to say or do. So she clung to him until he pulled away.
"Better get back home," he said, his voice husky.
She looked up into his eyes, those dark-lashed amber eyes, and saw an echo of their earlier days. There was no mistaking what was in his gaze. It was love, the same love that had been there when they were so young. Before she could speak, he turned away.
She longed to kiss him but knew he would not allow it. The nearest he ever came to a kiss was a perfunctory buss on the cheek or a quick peck on the lips. She supposed he didn't want to start something he couldn't finish, and she felt the same way.
They piled into the car and drove back to David's, lost in silence. That afternoon they spent by the pool, and Anne was pleased to find herself developing a suntan for the first time in years. The California sun was much gentler than the Texas sun, but she had to go about it in stages, being careful not to stay out too long at first.
When they got too hot they either jumped in the pool or sat in the cabana out of the sun. David ran the cooling system along the roof overhang: a narrow PVC pipe with tiny holes that emitted a fine mist of water to cool the air. It was surprisingly effective. In fact, many of the restaurants in town with sidewalk tables also had mist systems, as did some of the houses they had been to.
David fixed dinner that night and they watched an old movie. They were tired, and at ten o'clock he kissed her cheek, hugged her, and headed down the hall. "See ya tomorrow, darling. Got to get up and be at the airport early."
"Okay."
When at last he walked into the terminal, she was surprised to find him even better looking in person. A blonde with striking brown eyes, he was quite tall, taller than she had imagined, well over six feet. He also was in excellent physical condition. She could hardly believe he was twenty years older than David.
Groups of other passengers paused to stare at him, gesturing and talking amongst themselves, but no one approached them. Palm Springs residents were used to seeing movie stars and usually respected their privacy.
"Hi, darling, you must be the Anne I've heard so much about all these years," Mark said, pulling her into a big hug.
"My dear," she said, "I think you're going to be a bonus. Not only do I find David after all these years, but I get another wonderful friend in the bargain."
That afternoon, David had errands to run, so Anne and Mark sat around the pool and talked. She was amazed at how comfortable she was with him. The more time they spent together, the more she liked him.
Like David, he'd had cancer and extensive radiation. "Damned prostate," Mark said. "Good thing we caught it early. I'm no good in the love department anymore, but luckily I didn't have to have all that radiation and chemo. David waited too long, and the cancer almost got him. He was so ill; we're lucky he made it."
Anne was sick just thinking of it. Knowing he had suffered so made her ache inside. "I only wish I could have been there for him," she said.
"I wish you could have too." He looked at his watch. "Hey, it's getting late. We'd better get spiffied up for the shindig. Maggie has things about ready. And here comes David," he said, looking up.
"Almost time to party, folks," David said. "Shall we get ready?"
This gathering was larger and noisier than the last one, and Anne had even more fun than before. Mark's friends were in attendance, all full of curiosity about Anne and David, and eager to know how Mark's movie in Italy had gone. As she had at David's last party, Anne laughed, hugged, joked, and talked until she was almost hoarse.
Guests milled around the pool, lounged in the cabana, and sat around the large living room, library, and family room that all adjoined the pool area. Hired bartenders ran the bar inside and the one in the cabana while Maggie kept the buffet table well stocked.
Around nine o'clock, David sat down at the white grand piano in the corner of the living room and began to play. "Come on, Anne, get on over here and sing," he said, motioning to her. He struck up the first unmistakable notes of "Misty."
At first she was so full of emotion at hearing their old song that she wasn't sure she could get so much as one note out, but seeing the look in his eyes, she knew she had to try. When she finished, everyone in the room was silent for a moment.
At first she thought they didn't like her performance, but then everyone broke into applause. "More," someone said. "More."
David launched into all their favorite old songs, joining her on "Unchained Melody," which got a standing ovation. For more than an hour Anne sang and David played, sometimes singing with her.
Afterwards, Mark grabbed her in a bear hug. "I had no idea you could sing like that," he said. "You should be in the business."
"That's just what the world needs now," she laughed, "another aging girl singer." Secretly, she was flattered and thrilled with the attention and compliments she got. Singing made her feel good, and singing with David was a special high, just as it always had been.
The next day, David slept until noon, but Anne woke up at her usual time to find Mark eating breakfast by the pool.
"Good morning, you pretty thing, you. How do you manage to look so great so early in the morning?" Mark said, pouring coffee for Anne when she came out on the patio.
"And good morning to you, my friend. That kind of flattery makes getting up worthwhile."
They sat and talked for a couple of hours, dawdling over toast and coffee, reading the newspapers, and occasionally commenting on the forest fire sparked by lightning in Palm Canyon. Visible for miles, smoke billowed up out of the canyon, cascading into the sky in a black mass that hovered menacingly over Mt. San Jacinto.
The subject turned to how she had met David. "The first time I saw him, I thought I would faint," Anne said. "All I have to do is close my eyes and I can still see him, twenty years old and as handsome a soul as was ever created."
"I had the same reaction." Mark said. "It was right after he left the army. He was working at a little burger joint on Hollywood Boulevard," he smiled. "Ah, talk about a golden boy. We struck up a friendship, I got him a few bit parts, and he moved in after his parents split up." He chuckled. "My partner, Dom, is his foster mother . . . when he's around."
"Is Dom another golden god like you guys?" Anne said, laughing. "All you California boys look alike."
Mark laughed and poured her more coffee. "No, Dom's a New York boy with dark hair and brown eyes you could dive into."
That afternoon, Mark decided to cook dinner in the summer kitchen, a feast of fresh turkey, sourdough dressing loaded with mushrooms and herbs, spaghetti squash, and green beans almandine.
"This is the best gravy I ever tasted," Anne said. "What's your secret?"
"Raspberry jam," he said.
"What?"
"I add a teaspoon of raspberry jam. A French chef taught me that little trick," he said. "Makes it taste divine, don't you think?"
David nodded, but a minute later, without saying a word, rushed from the dining room.
Anne ran after him. "David, what is it?"
"Nothing. I'll be all right," he said, running into the bathroom.
"It's from the cancer," Mark told her. "He has stomach problems. Adhesions and scar tissue. He'll be all right in a little while."
The following day they drove into Hollywood for a party in Bel Air at the home of Daryl Spellford, David and Mark's agent. They were at the party only an hour when David grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the sofa next to him.
"I don't feel so good," he said. "Would you mind if we head for Laurel Canyon?"
"Stomach again?" she asked.
He nodded and held his arms across his middle as she drove him home.
Chapter 24
Anne called her mom's nurse to let her know she wouldn't be back until the next day. Each time David got up during the night, she worried more. Sometime around midnight, she heard him again and knocked on his door. "Are you all right, darling? I have some medication if you need it. It's prescription. I'll leave it on the kitchen counter."
"I'll be okay. It's just this blasted gut of mine. Sometimes it gets all mixed up and starts flapping around. Probably too many appetizers."
She heard him get up several more times before she finally slept. The next morning, though, he seemed fine. "The medicine you gave me worked," he said.
"I'm so glad. You had me worried."
"No need. Probably just something I ate."
The following Sunday, he called as usual and said he was feeling well.
"No more upset tummy?" she asked.
"Nah. I'm healed. It was your wonder medicine that did it. I asked my doctor to prescribe some, because it's great. The doc says he used it in Vietnam. Calls this stuff his no-sweat pills. You take one and, no sweat, you're back in action."
In spite of what he said, Anne was still worried about him. "When will I see you again?" she asked.
"Not for a while. I'm starting a shoot in Las Vegas Monday and won't be back until the first of August."
"Drat," she said with a groan.
"So you'll miss me?"
"You know I will," she said. "But I'll survive."
"Of course you will. Meanwhile, keep smiling," he said, "and plan to come down to Palm Desert when I get back. Okay?"
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br /> "It's a deal."
She hated being away from David now that he was back in her life, but he called her often from Las Vegas.
Just that afternoon he had called, sounding tired. "They've got me in a beautiful hotel," he said, "but I'm absolutely beat from being out in the sun all day. Don't know why they couldn't shoot indoors or when the weather is cooler. But that's typical. The ad agencies that use these photos never do anything that makes sense.
"Tell you what," he said, "we'll plan on doing Las Vegas together in the fall, when it cools off a little. I'll be home tomorrow."
"Can't wait to see you."
That evening, Anne was unable to rouse her mother when she went in to wake her for dinner. Agnes Mills's breathing was slow and steady, but no matter what Anne did, she wouldn't wake up. She called her doctor, who told her to call 911 and get her mom into the hospital immediately.
Anne followed the ambulance to St. Joseph's Hospital, where Dr. Bowen met her. "She's had a stroke," he said. "I can't give you any encouragement, but she's got a strong heart. All we can do now is wait and see what happens. She may wake up and be perfectly fine, or she could be paralyzed." He touched Anne's shoulder. "But you know her Alzheimer's complicates things."
She sat by her mother's side all night, holding her hand and praying. Although she couldn't forget her mother's abuse, Anne also remembered the wonderful times. She thought of the dresses her mother made for her and how she played tea party with her in the carton their refrigerator came in. And there were the Christmases when her mom had done without to buy presents for her.
Sometimes the bad times haunted Anne, but she believed that if she had any goodness in her, it must have come from her mother's nurturing. In her heart, she knew her mother had done the very best she could with what she knew at the time. She had forgiven her mother long ago, and now all she wished for her was peace.
Anne didn't want to see her paralyzed, nor did she want to see her suffer, but she couldn't stand the thought of her mother dying.
"Not my will, but thine," she prayed aloud. "Dear God, have mercy."
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