“We're not late yet, and what are you smiling at?” Faye looked at him curiously.

“I was just thinking of Li's face when he sees the car.”

“God, he's going to die!” She giggled to herself again, and Ward smiled. She was so crazy about that boy, always had been, almost too much so, he thought sometimes, and too protective of him. She was never willing to let him take the physical risks Greg took, or be exposed to as many things. He didn't have Greg's physical strength, she always said, or his ability to take hard knocks, emotionally or otherwise, but Ward was never as sure. Maybe he would have been tougher, if Faye had given him a chance. And in other ways he was so much like her, he was as quietly stubborn as Faye herself had always been, as determined about what he wanted to do, at all costs, as certain. He even looked like her, if you squinted they could almost have been twins, and spiritually, they were, to the exclusion of everyone else sometimes. If Ward had been honest about it, he would have been jealous of the boy sometimes. She was so close to him as he grew up, they confided in each other so much, it left everyone else out, especially Ward, who resented it. Lionel was always polite to him, pleasant, but he never went out of his way to seek him out, to go anywhere with him … not like Greg, who bounded up to Ward the moment he came home, every night for the last sixteen years, or ever since he could walk anyway. Sometimes Ward even found him asleep on his side of the big double bed when he got home at night. Greg would have some urgent adventure to relate to him and wanted to be sure he woke up when they got home. The sun rose and set on his Dad, and Ward had to admit that that kind of passionate approval was hard to beat, and it made Lionel's shy aloofness seem even more difficult to penetrate. Why even try when you had a child like Gregory panting at your feet? But he knew he owed something to his oldest son. He had just never been quite sure what.

Even the car had been Faye's idea. It would make getting to UCLA in the fall so much easier, and his summer job too. He was working at Van Cleef & Arpels, the jewelers, on Rodeo Drive, doing errands and odd jobs, and he was thrilled. It wasn't the kind of job Ward would have wanted for him, and Greg would have hated doing something like that, but Lionel had gotten the job for himself, he had gone in for the interview with his hair freshly cut, dressed in his best suit, and he had obviously impressed them despite his age, or maybe they had known who his parents were. But whatever it was, he had gotten the job, and when he announced it to the family that night, it was one of those rare times when he had seemed almost childlike in his excitement, instead of more composed and mature. Greg had looked nonplussed, and the twins had been none too excited at the news. But Faye had been especially pleased for him, she knew how badly he had wanted the job, and he had gotten it all on his own. She had urged Ward to congratulate him too, and he had, but he had to admit he hadn't been all that pleased.

“You sure you wouldn't rather go to Montana in August with Greg?” He was going to work on a ranch for six weeks, and before that he was going camping in Yellowstone Park with a group of boys and teachers from school, but that was exactly the kind of thing the oldest boy hated most.

“I'd be a lot happier here, Dad. Honest …” His eyes were as wide and green as Faye's, suddenly terrified they wouldn't let him take the job, and he had tried so hard … but his father had backed down rapidly at the look on his face.

“I just thought I'd ask.”

'Thanks, Dad.” Lionel had disappeared into the solitude of his room. Ward had built on to the house several years before, they had no guest room anymore, and the maid slept in a tiny apartment built over the garage, but now each of the children had their own room in the main house, even the twins, who had been relieved to finally sleep apart, although they didn't admit it at first.

Ward and Faye drove into the driveway on Roxbury Drive, and the twins were already waiting on the front lawn. Vanessa in a white linen dress with a blue ribbon in her long blond hair. She was wearing new sandals, and carrying a white straw bag, and both parents thought instantly how pretty she looked, as did Val, but in a far more striking way. She was wearing a bright green dress that was so short it was closer to her crotch than her knees. It was low-cut in the back, and defined her lush figure perfectly, and unlike her twin, she did not look anywhere near fifteen. She was already using makeup most of the time, her nails were freshly done, and she was wearing cute little green French heels, but Faye sighed and glanced at Ward as he stopped the car.

“Here we go again … our resident siren on the march

Ward smiled benevolently and patted his wife's hand. “Let it go, babe. Don't get into an argument with her today.”

“I'd love to see her wash some of that crap off her face before we go.”

Ward squinted at her appraisingly, still from the safety of the car and then laughed. “Just tell people she's your niece.” He looked gently at his wife then. “She's going to be a beauty one day.”

“I'll be too old and senile by then to appreciate it.”

“Just let her be.” He always said that. It was his answer to everything, except Lionel of course. In Lionel's case, he always had to be told, reprimanded, made to conform. Ward expected everything from him. Always too much, according to Faye. Ward had never been able to understand how different the boy was, how creative he was, how sensitive, how totally other were his needs. But Val … she was something else … headstrong, demanding, belligerent. She was surely their most difficult child … or was it Anne, so constantly withdrawn? … sometimes Faye couldn't decide which was worse. But as she stepped out of the car, Vanessa came bounding toward her with that clear, easy smile, and she decided to be grateful for the easy one today. It was simpler that way. She told her how pretty she looked, put an arm around her and kissed her cheek.

“Your brother's going to be so proud of you.”

“You mean Alice in Wonderland here?” Val sauntered up, seething inwardly as she noticed her mother's arm around her twin, she had been watching intently when she kissed Vanessa's cheek. “Don't you think she's a little old for that look?” Valerie was everything mod, and in contrast, Vanessa looked like innocence itself. And now that she had approached, Faye could see a thick black line on Val's upper eyelid that made her physically cringe.

“Sweetheart, why don't you take some of that makeup off before we go? It's a little early in the day for all that, isn't it?” It was easier to blame it on the hour, rather than her age. Fifteen seemed more than a little young for Cleopatra eyes to Faye, and this sort of thing had never been her style anyway. But Valerie had adopted absolutely none of her mother's ways, or Ward's. She seemed to have her own ideas about everything, and God only knew where they came from, surely not from any of them, she told herself. She was straight out of a teenage movie about Hollywood, with some of its worst features exaggerated until her mother wanted to scream. But Faye attempted to remain calm now, as Val stood in front of her and visibly dug in her little green heels.

“It took a lot of time to put this on, Mother. And I'm not taking it off now.” “Make me” were the only words she forgot to add, and Faye wasn't sure she could have anyway,

“Be reasonable, sweetheart. It looks a little overdone.”

“Who says?”

“Come on, squirt, go take that shit off.” Greg had bounded out, wearing khaki slacks and a blue oxford shirt, a tie that was more than slightly askew and looked as though it might have spent the night under the bed for several years. His loafers were all banged up, and his hair wasn't quite lying down the way he wanted it to. But despite his obvious contrast to his father's far more debonair style, he was clearly a carbon copy of him, and Faye smiled as he glanced at Val with a shrug, “it really looks dumb.” But his words only enraged Val more.

“Mind your own business … you're nothing but a dumb jock anyway.”

“Well, I can tell you one thing. I wouldn't go out with a girl with all that goop on her face.” He looked her over and it was obvious that he didn't approve. “And your dress is too tight. It makes your boobs stick out.” She blushed faintly but was instantly furious with him. She had wanted them to, but she didn't want her hateful brother to point it out. “Makes you look like a tart.” He said it matter-of-factly but her eyes flew open wide and she took a swing at him, just as Ward came out of the house again and shouted at them both.

“Hey, you two! Behave! This is your brother's graduation day.”

“He called me a tart!” Valerie was furious with him, and Vanessa looked bored. They went through it all the time, and she secretly thought he was right, not that that would influence Valerie anyway. She was so headstrong and determined, she'd do exactly what she wanted anyway, or make their lives miserable for the rest of the day. They'd all been through it before, at least ten thousand times, with her.

“She looks like one, doesn't she, Dad?” Greg was defending himself against her ferocious swing, and standing nearby, Faye heard the wrinkled blue oxford shirt rip.

“Stop it!” It was useless, and they exhausted her when they behaved like this. They usually did it when she was bone-tired, after a bad day on the set. Gone were the days of quietly reading them stones at night by the fire, but she hadn't been home for most of that anyway. The baby-sitters and the maids had taken her place over the years, and sometimes she wondered if this was the price she had paid for it. There were times when they were completely out of control, like now. But Ward stepped in and grabbed Val's arm, speaking to her firmly in a voice that quieted her down.