“You're only twenty years old. What's your rush?” But they both knew he had lived a lot for his age, in part because of John. He had suffered, and lost someone he dearly loved. He couldn't go back to being a child again, no matter how much Ward wanted him to, and although he resisted admitting it, Ward knew it too. John's death had changed all of them, it had allowed him to form a bond with his son again. But Lionel would never be as young, or as carefree, as he had been before. Maybe he was right to give up school, but Ward was sorry anyway. “I'm sorry to see you do it, son.”

“I knew you would be, Dad.”

“Who's offering you the job?”

Lionel grinned. “Fox.” The competition of course. And Ward laughed and put a hand to his heart as though he had been shot.

“What a blow. I wish you'd stay out of this damn business.” He meant what he said but Lionel shrugged.

“You and Mom seem to like it a lot.”

“And sometimes we get good and tired of it.” He had been feeling that way for a while, and he wanted to talk Faye into taking a trip with him. She had finished a film and would be free for a while, and she had no excuses now, and then as he looked at Lionel, he had an idea. “You're not moving out right away, are you?”

“I thought I'd start getting organized one of these days and look for a place to stay. I don't want to get in your way.”

“Not at all.” Ward smiled apologetically at him, remembering how harsh he had been. “Would you be willing to stay for another month and keep an eye on the girls?”

“Sure.” Lionel looked surprised. “How come?”

“I want to take your mother away. She needs a break, and so do I.” They hadn't had five minutes alone since he had ended his affair and moved back into the house nine months before, and it was high time they went on a trip together. Lionel smiled at the thought.

“I'd be happy to do that, Dad. It would do you both good.”

Ward smiled at him as they left the restaurant. They were friends again. Friends as they had never been. Man to man … no matter how odd that seemed. And that night Ward told Faye about his plans. “And I don't want to hear any arguments. No excuses. Nothing about work or the kids, or the actors you have to talk to about the script. We're leaving two weeks from tonight.” He had ordered the tickets that afternoon. They were leaving for Paris, Rome, and Switzerland, and instead of arguing, her eyes lit up.

“Are you serious?” She looked at him, amused, and put her arms around him.

“I am. And if you don't come willingly, I'll kidnap you. We're going to stay away for three weeks, and maybe four.” He had checked her production schedule secretly that afternoon and knew she could stay away for that long.

She followed him upstairs that night with a lighter step, and pirouetted in her nightgown as he teased her about Paris and Rome.

“It's been too long since we did something like that, Faye.” “I know.” She sat down quietly on the bed and looked at him. They had almost lost each other once or twice, they had almost lost two children … a daughter … and a son … they had given up a grandchild and their son's lover had died. It hadn't been an easy time for any of them. And if anyone had asked her a year before if her marriage could have been saved, she would have told them no. But now, as she looked at him, she knew she still loved the man, with all his faults, with his affairs, with the times he had failed her, even with the anguish he had inflicted on their son. She loved Ward Thayer. She had for years, and probably always would. She had few illusions about him after twenty-two years, but she loved the man he was. And that night, when they went to bed, they made love as they had years and years before.





CHAPTER 27




Paris was exquisite that spring, as they wandered along the Seine, went to Les Halles for onion soup, strolled down the Champs Élysées, went to Dior, and then lunch at Fouquet's and dinner at Maxim's and the Brasserie Lipp. They had drinks at the Cafe Flore and the Deux Magots and they laughed and cuddled and hugged and kissed over cheese and wine. It was just exactly what Ward had wanted it to be, a second honeymoon, a place to forget all the sorrows of the past year or two, the children, the films, the responsibilities, and when they reached Lausanne, Faye sat looking out at Lac Leman and smiled at him.

“You know, I'm glad I married you.” She said it matter-of-factly as she sipped her coffee and ate a croissant, and he laughed at her.

“I'm awfully glad to hear that. What made you decide that?”

“Well,” she mused, staring out at the lake, “you're a nice man. You make a mess of things sometimes, but you're smart enough and decent enough to go back and straighten things out.” She was thinking of Lionel, and she was relieved that he and the boy were friends again. And she was thinking of his affair too.

“I try hard. I'm not as smart as you are sometimes, Faye.”

“Bullshit.”

“You sound like Val.” He looked disapprovingly at her and she laughed.

“Well, I'm no smarter than you are. Just more stubborn sometimes.”

“I don't always have the guts to hang on the way you do. Sometimes I want to run away.” He had done it twice so far, but she had always taken him back and he was grateful for that. But he was surprised at what she said next.

“Sometimes I want to run away too, you know. But then I worry about what would happen if I did … who would keep an eye on Val … make sure Anne was all right … Vanessa … Greg … Li …” She smiled at him. “You. Somehow, I'm so damn egocentric that I figure none of it would run right if I disappeared, which isn't true, but it keeps me hanging in.”

“I'm glad.” He smiled at her and took her hand. They still had romance between them after all these years. “Because you're right. None of it would run right if you disappeared, and I'm glad you never have.”

“Maybe one day I will. I'll run off and have some wild affair with a grip on the set.” She laughed at the thought, and Ward did not look amused.

“I've worried about that a few times. There are some actors I'm not crazy about your working with.” It was the first time he had admitted that to her and she was touched.

“I always behave myself.”

“I know. That's why I keep such a good eye on you.”

“Oh it is, is it?” She tweaked his ear, and he kissed her, and a little while later they went inside, forgetting Lac Leman and the Alps, and their children and careers. They only thought of each other for their remaining days abroad, and they were both sorry when they boarded the plane to go home. “It was a beautiful vacation, wasn't it, love?”

“It was.” He smiled at her, and she slipped a hand into his arm, and leaned her head on him.

“I'd like to spend a lifetime doing that one day.”

“No, you wouldn't,” he laughed, “you'd go stark staring mad. By next week, you'll be knee deep in your new picture, and telling me how impossible everyone is, that none of the costumes fit, the scenery stinks, the locations are no good, no one knows their lines. You'll be tearing your beautiful blond hair out by the roots. And without that, you'd be so bored you couldn't stand it … could you?” She laughed at his accurate description of her business life.

“Well, maybe I'm not quite ready to retire yet, but one of these days …”

“Just let me know when.”

“I will.” And she looked as though she might.

But he was right. Two weeks later, life was just as he had described; she was going totally nuts, her biggest star was giving her a rough time, two others were on drugs, another drank on the set and showed up drunk every day after lunch, an entire set had burned to the ground, the unions were threatening to walk out. Life was back to normal again, but they were both revived after their trip. Lionel had the girls well in hand when they got back. Anne seemed to have settled back into school, the twins were behaving, more or less, the news from Greg was good, and a month later, Lionel moved out again, he had found a place of his own, and although Faye knew he would be lonely there without John, she thought it might do him good. He was doing the film for Fox, and he said it was going well when he called. The only problem they had was with Anne, who had wanted to move in with him. Lionel had discouraged her. He told her that she didn't belong with him now. That he had to live his own life, and so did she, that it had been right for a time, but no more. Now she had to make a life for herself in school again, make new friends, revive old friendships if she wished. But she belonged with Ward and Faye, he told her.

He moved out one Saturday afternoon, as Anne watched him in tears, and she spent the rest of the day in her room. But the next day, she went to the movies with one of her friends, and Faye decided there was hope for her. She hadn't mentioned the pregnancy in a long time, and she never mentioned the baby she had given up, and Faye prayed that she would forget it all if that was possible.

And Faye tried to forget it herself as she dove into her film, and stopped only for the Academy Awards, which were at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium that year. She convinced Lionel and the twins to come. She thought that Anne was too young, so she stayed home in lonely isolation, as usual, refusing to even watch the awards on TV.

Faye didn't think she'd win, and she kept telling Ward all that night as she got dressed that it was ridiculous to get worked up about it, they didn't mean anything anymore … not like when she was young … when she was acting … when it was the first time. “And after all,” she looked at him, as she fastened pearls around her neck, “I've already won two.”