Once in a Lifetime (37 page)

"Maybe. I'll know more in the next couple of months." And then she looked at him gently, she owed him some kind of explanation. She had told him the worst of it three months before, now she owed him the rest. It was strange this friendship they had, it was platonic, and yet there was always just the faintest hint of something more. "Things settled down a lot with Justin this summer. I think maybe I was wrong to tell you what happened while I was away last time." Somehow, it didn't seem quite fair. Justin had never done it again and it colored what Matthew thought of him, Daphne knew. Even now.

"There's no harm done." He smiled as he drove. "I won't tell the papers."

She smiled in answer. "I guess it was just an aberration." She closed her eyes and sighed. "But God, it was so awful. When I talked to you that time, I thought I would die." He remembered and said nothing.

"Yeah ... I know. Have you looked at the school for Andrew?"

"Not yet. I suppose I should as soon as we finish the movie. I really haven't had time to do anything. I feel like I've been living in suspended animation for months."

"Yeah." He smiled again. "I know the feeling. Me too." It was strange to realize that in three months he would leave Howarth and go back to the New York School. It was difficult to remember a time when he hadn't been at Howarth, a time when she hadn't called him, when he hadn't been her friend.

There was something sad between them this time that Daphne couldn't quite put her finger on while she visited Andrew. She saw Matthew watching her from the window of his office, and then he would quickly turn away. It wasn't until he drove her back to the airport that she finally asked him.

"Matthew, is something wrong?"

"No, little one, nothing. I just had a birthday. I think maybe I'm just feeling old."

"You need to get back to New York."

His sister had said the same thing, but she knew more than Daphne, because she knew her brother was in love.

"Maybe." He was strangely noncommittal.

"It's too lonely for you at Howarth. It was different for Helen Curtis. She's an old woman, she doesn't mind being locked up all alone."

"You didn't mind it either when you did it, and you were half her age."

"I wasn't alone the whole time I lived there." As always, her voice was tinged with gentle memories of John.

"Neither am I, all the time." It was the first time he had said anything like that. Daphne looked at him in surprise. He knew so much about her life that she had no hesitation about asking.

"Are you seeing someone up there, Matt?" Somehow she had always assumed that he was alone. And she was suddenly shocked to realize that she hadn't known more. Why hadn't he told her?

"Not really. From time to time."

"Nothing serious?" She wasn't sure why, but it bothered her, which was ridiculous, she told herself. She was thinking of marrying Justin. Why shouldn't Matt have a woman in his life? He was just her friend after all.

He looked pensive. 'It could be serious If I wanted it to be. But I haven't wanted that."

"Why not?" Her blue eyes were all innocence, and he turned toward her, marveling at how blind she was.

"Tor a lot of foolish reasons, Daphne. Very foolish."

"Don't be afraid, Matt. I was. And I was wrong."

"Were you? Are you that happy now?" He sounded so sad.

"Not always, but some of the time. Maybe that's enough. At least I'm alive."

"How do you know that's better? Is it good enough just to be alive?"

"You can't have perfection, Matt. I gave up after John died, because I knew I'd never find that again, but who's to say that we'd always have been that happy. Maybe even Jeffrey and I would have had our problems after a while. My career would be hard for any man to swallow. Look at this year, for instance. How would I have managed that if I were married, in a conventional marriage?" It was a question she had thought of often.

"You could swing it if that was what you wanted and your husband was understanding. You also didn't have to write the screenplay." There was no reproach in his voice, he was just thinking aloud.

"I'm glad I did though."

"Why? Because of Justin?"

"Partly. But mainly because I've learned a lot doing it. I don't think I'd do it again. It takes too much time away from my books, but it's been a marvelous experience. You were right to encourage me to go."

"Did I do that?" He looked startled.

"You did." She smiled. "The first night I met you, and so did Mrs. Curtis."

Matt looked at her strangely. "Maybe we were both fools."

"What makes you say that?" She didn't understand what he was saying. Maybe because she didn't want to.

"Nothing. Martha tells me I'm getting soft in the head. She's probably right." They exchanged a smile then as they drove on.

"So tell me about your new friend. Who is she?"

He might as well tell her. There was no harm now. "A schoolteacher in town. She's from Texas, and she's very pretty and very young." He smiled sheepishly at Daphne, this was a strange friendship that they shared. "She's twenty-five years old, and frankly, I feel like a dirty old man."

"Bullshit. It's good for you. Christ, there's nothing else to do up here except read. No wonder everyone here loves my books."

"So does she. She's read them all."

Daphne looked amused. "What's her name?"

"Harriet. Harriet Bateau."

"That sounds exotic."

"I wouldn't call her that, but she's a nice girl, with a good mind, good values."

Daphne looked at him then with a curious expression. "Do you think you'll get married, Matt?" It was hard to think of him no longer there to take her phone calls, but he couldn't be forever. What they had had been a phenomenon of two lonely lives and kindred souls. The latter would always be the same, but her life had already changed and his was changing. The calls wouldn't go on forever. They both knew it. And they were facing it now.

But he shook his head. He wasn't ready to think of marriage. "I haven't even thought of that yet. We've just been out a few times." It was more than that, but in his mind it wasn't, though he knew how in love with him Harriet was. He didn't want to play with her heart, and he suspected that she knew what kept him distant from her. Sometimes he wondered if everyone did except Daphne.

She smiled at him now. "Well, let me know."

"I will. And you do the same."

"About Justin?"

He nodded.

"I will."

He stood looking down at her just before she got on the plane. "Take care of yourself, little one." More than ever before, this time his words had the ring of good-bye. She reached up and hugged him and he hugged her back, trying not to cling to her, and silently wishing her luck.

"I'll send Andrew out to you at Thanksgiving."

"I'll be talking to you long before that." But he wasn't so sure, and when he waved for the last time he had to turn away so she wouldn't see his eyes fill with tears at her going.

When Daphne stepped off the plane in Los Angeles, she found Justin waiting at the gate, and he swept her into his arms with a hungry look of glee. Four people recognized him before they reached the limousine, but as usual he denied who he was, and Daphne sat laughing with him in the backseat. He seemed ecstatic to see her, and when they got home, she found everything spotless and in order, and Justin looked very proud of himself.

"See! I told you I had reformed."

"I apologize for all my evil thoughts." She was beaming. Maybe he was for real after all. She felt relief sweep over her like a flood of cool, fresh water. Now she could let go again and trust him. She adored him, and everything was all right, but he looked down at her with serious eyes.

"No, Daphne. I apologize for my evil past."

"Don't say that, darling ... it's all right." She kissed him tenderly on the mouth and he picked her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed and they made love until morning without even going back to the car to get her luggage or turn off the living room lights, which, like their ardor, burned brightly until morning.

The movie got back to the usual grind the next morning and the next nine weeks flew by like magic. Daphne barely had time to call Matthew, and lately she felt reluctant to call him. It was beginning to feel like a betrayal of Justin to be pouring out her soul to Matt. He didn't seem to mind it, and he never seemed to notice when she called, but still it didn't feel right now, and several times when she did call, Matt was out. She assumed, correctly, with Harriet Bateau.

They wrapped up the last scene of Apache in the first week of November, and as Justin walked off the set for the last time there were tears in everyone's eyes. There were kisses and hugs, and Howard grabbed her and hugged her. Champagne flowed and they all left each other with regret, feeling like lost souls. It was impossible to imagine what they would all do without the filming of Apache. It had taken seven months, during which time they had become brothers and sisters and lovers. And now it was over, and the sense of loss was overwhelming. There was still plenty of work for Howard and the technical people. They would spend months on editing and cutting and splicing, the music and the sound would be worked on for a long time. But for Daphne and the actors it was all over, a dream come to an end, which had at times seemed like a nightmare, but now all the pains were forgotten. Like childbirth, it all seemed very dim, except the final burst of exhilaration at the end, and at the wrap party the next day everyone got roaring drunk and generally unruly. They didn't have to worry about being at work on time at five o'clock the next morning, or Howard screaming at them. It was over. Finito. Finished. Daphne stood, holding a glass of champagne and beaming at Justin, as Howard made a farewell speech and she felt tears fill her eyes.

"It's a beautiful movie, Daff. You're going to love it." She had already seen rushes on a regular basis, but she had to admit that it would be the thrill of her life when she saw the finished film, and now she looked happily up at Justin.

"You did a great job."

Everywhere, in every corner, were people congratulating each other and kissing. It was three in the morning before they went home.

And the next morning Daphne sat in her office with Barbara feeling lost and a little sad as she grinned. "Christ, you know, I'm as bad as Justin. I don't know what to do now."

"You'll figure out something." Barbara smiled. "Not to mention the new book." She had three months left to write it, and after Thanksgiving she had to get down to work. "When's Andrew coming out?"

"The night before Thanksgiving. And that reminds me"--she handed Barbara a list--"you and Tom and the kids are still coming, aren't you?" She looked suddenly worried. She knew that Barbara had never really made peace with Justin, and she was afraid that at the last minute they'd back out.

"We wouldn't miss it."

"Good."

She and Justin spent the next week doing the kinds of things film people do when they aren't working. They played tennis once or twice, went to a couple of parties, had dinner at Ma Maison and The Bistro and Morton's. The papers mentioned them several times, their romance was no longer a secret, and Daphne was feeling happy and relaxed. Justin seemed to look younger by the hour, and four days before Andrew was due to arrive he read the morning paper and smiled at Daphne.

"Guess what? There's snow in the Sierras."

"Am I supposed to get excited about that?" She looked amused. Sometimes he still reminded her of a little boy.

"Hell, yes, kiddo. It's the first snow of the year. How about going skiing this week?"

"Justin"--at moments like this she spoke as though she were his extremely patient mother--"I hate to remind you, my love, but Thanksgiving is next Thursday and we're having Barbara and Tom and his kids, and Andrew here for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Tell them we can't make it."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because for one thing Andrew is arriving on Wednesday, and this will be special for him. Come on, sweetheart, this is important to me. I haven't had a real at-home Thanksgiving in ten years."

"We'll do it next year." He looked petulant as he said it.

"Justin, please ..." Her eyes pleaded with him and he threw down the paper and got up.

"Oh, shit. Who the hell cares about Thanksgiving dinner for chrissake? That's for preachers and their wives. It's the best snow they've had at Tahoe in thirty years and you want to sit here with a bunch of kids eating turkey. Christ."

"Is that really so awful?" She was hurt by his words.

He looked down at her from his great height. "It's extremely bourgeois."

She laughed at the expression he had used, and took his hand in hers. "I apologize for being so boring. But this is really important to all of us. Especially Andrew and me."

"All right, all right. I give up. I'm obviously outnumbered by all you straight folks." He kissed her then and didn't mention it again. She had promised him that as soon as Andrew went back to school, they would go skiing, even if it meant postponing her book. Justin wasn't starting a movie for several months, so they had plenty of time to go skiing. And Andrew was only staying for a week.

But on Tuesday night, as they lay in bed, Justin rolled over and kissed her and she saw that he was hemming and hawing about something. It was obvious that he had something to say.

"What's up, love?" She suspected that he wanted to ask her about Andrew. She knew that he was still nervous about his deafness. And she had tried to reassure him that Andrew was easy to talk to now, and she would be there to help. "What's on your mind?"

He sat up in bed and looked down at her with a sheepish smile. "You know me too well, Daff."

"I try to." But she didn't. She was in for a big surprise. "So?"

"I'm leaving for Tahoe in the morning. I couldn't resist, Daff. And to tell you the truth, I really need to get away."

"Now?" She lay there and stared at him and then she sat up. He wasn't kidding. She couldn't believe it. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes. I figured you'd understand."