Loving (17 page)

"Anthony! That's fabulous." But she realized she had to tell him something then. She had noticed his "we." Regretfully she took his hand and spoke gently. "But sweetheart, I can't. ..." She hated to say it, but she had to. "I can't go along."

"Of course you can. Don't be ridiculous. Why can't you?" He looked at her nervously and stood up.

But Bettina looked at him firmly. "No, darling. I can't. The baby. That land of traveling, would be too much."

"Bullshit it would, Bettina. I told you, we'll be staying in decent hotels. We're going to big cities. So what the hell is your problem? Christ, it doesn't even show!" He was shouting at her, and she could see his hands shake.

"Just because it doesn't show doesn't mean it isn't there. And it doesn't matter what kind of hotels we stay in, that's a lot of traveling."

"Well, you'd better make up your mind to do it." He stalked across the room and looked back at her. "Because if you don't go with me, I'm still out of work."

"Don't be ridiculous, Anthony." But she was momentarily touched. "You mean you won't go without me?"

He paused for a long time, standing in the doorway. "I mean that they want you as assistant director, sister. They want us as a pair. And they want us together. You don't do it, they won't hire me."

"What? But that's crazy!"

"The producer saw us work together on the road and they think we make a good team. As it so happens their director on this one is kind of a figurehead, so he'll get the glory, but you'll be doing the work. It's not a great arrangement, but the money is good. Two fifty a week for you." But she didn't seem to care.

"That's not the point, Anthony. I'm pregnant. Did you tell them that?"

"Hardly." He spat the word at her.

But now she was angry too. It was starting all over again. "I won't do it, damn you!"

"In that case, madam"--he swept her a low bow--"allow me to thank you for destroying my career. I hope you realize"--he stood up very straight and faced her across the room with fury in his eyes--"I hope you realize that if I turn this down I may not work for years."

"Oh, Anthony, that's not so...." There were suddenly tears in her eyes again. But she also knew that was how it sometimes worked. Turn down a good offer, and word got around. "Whose company is it?" She heard the name Voorhees and she cringed. They were one of the most hard-nosed outfits in the business. "But, darling, I can't."

He didn't answer, he simply walked out and slammed the door. Dammit. It was a ridiculous arrangement. Why did they have to insist on having her too? She had gotten all the experience she wanted in the last seven years. Now she wanted to read every play she could get her hands on, and then she would write her own. Her in-house training was over as far as she was concerned. But Anthony was a different story. If she blew it for him, he could be out of work for a very, very long time. After thinking it over for two hours, she called the doctor and discussed the matter with him.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're crazy!"

"Why? Because it would be bad for the baby?"

"No, the baby won't care. But the way you've been feeling, can you think of anything worse than traveling from hotel room to hotel room for the next five or six months?" She nodded grimly in silent answer. "How long is the tour?"

"I don't know. I forgot to ask."

"Well, let's put it this way, if you can stand it, I don't see any physical reason why you shouldn't go, as long as you get as much rest as you can, eat decently, stay off your feet whenever possible, and come back to home base in"--he looked at her chart--"no more than five months. I want you back here when you're no more than seven and a half months pregnant. Any sensible obstetrician would tell you that. And I also want you to go to prenatal clinics when you're on the road. Call the biggest hospital in every town you hit and get checked once a month. Think you can handle all that?" His voice smiled at her over the phone.

"I guess I'll have to."

"Actually"--he sounded more gentle--"once the nausea settles down, it may not be so bad. The old vaudevillians used to do things like that. You've heard the expression 'born in a trunk'? They weren't kidding. I can think of easier ways to have a baby, but if you're sensible, it won't hurt you or the baby." With a long sigh Bettina hung up the phone. She had her answer. And four hours later Anthony had his.

But the tour was even more exhausting than the last one, and she worked her ass off every day on the road. It turned out that the director had an ironclad contract with the company so they had to take him along, but he was an alcoholic who spent every day drinking in his room, which left everything on Bettina's shoulders. And by the second month on the road she thought she would collapse. The hotels were not nearly as lovely as Anthony had promised, the hours were endless, and with no director to lean on, and an inadequate staff, Bettina was hauling, yelling, working, running every hour of the day. She was losing weight instead of gaining, and she had constant pains in her legs. She hardly ever saw Anthony, who spent every day, when they weren't rehearsing, out playing with his friends. In particular, with a little blond model from Cleveland who was making her debut in the show. Her name was Jeannie, and by the time they had left New York City, Bettina hated her guts. It made working with her difficult, as assistant director, but Bettina forced herself to be professional. She owed it to the girl, to herself, to the company, and to Anthony.

The second time she went to a clinic, the doctor told her where things stood. She was overworked, overwrought, and underweight, and if she didn't take things a little easier, she would lose the baby. She was almost four months pregnant. He suggested she ask her husband to help her a little, to reduce the pressure of her job. And that night after the performance she spoke to Anthony and asked him to help.

"Why, for chrissake? You planning to go up onstage and act for me?"

"Anthony ... be serious...."

"I am serious. What do I care if you lose the baby? I never wanted it in the first place. Listen, lover, that baby is your kid. You don't want to lose it, find someone else to help you out." And he had walked past her then and slid a hand into Jeannie's arm. He then informed Bettina that they were going out to dinner and not to wait up. She looked at him in stupefaction. What was happening to them? Why was he doing this? Was it just because of the child? She returned to her hotel room, troubled, and for the first time in two months the urge to call Ivo was almost overwhelming. But she couldn't do that anymore. She wasn't a little girl now. And she couldn't turn to Ivo just because this was hard. But she sat alone, alternately thinking and crying. Anthony never came home. She waited in her hotel room to confront him. But at noon the next day she finally had to leave for the theater. And Jeannie was waiting for her there.

"Looking for Anthony?" she cooed at Bettina, and Bettina felt everything inside her go taut.

"No, I came here to work. Anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah. Act like a lady." Jeannie hopped up on a stool, and it took all of Bettina's self-control not to knock her off.

"I beg your pardon?" Bettina's voice was like ice.

"You heard me, Betty."

"The name's Bettina. And just exactly what do you mean?" Suddenly Bettina knew that there was something major happening here. What was this girl saying? And where was Anthony in all this? Bettina felt her guts ache, but she didn't waver as she looked at the pretty blond girl.

"All right, Betty"--she had what the French call "a face to slap"--"why don't you just let Anthony do his thing now? His six months are almost up."

"What six months?" She made it sound like a jail sentence, and Bettina looked stunned.

"Just why do you think he married you, sweetheart? Because he was so madly in love? Hell, no, he wanted his green card, or didn't he tell you that?" Suddenly Bettina was horrified. "And you were the most likely candidate around. He knew your ex-husband would support you so he wouldn't have to worry about it. And he married you in September, right?" Bettina nodded dumbly. "Well, he only has to stay with you for six months, babe, and he gets the green card. He can get rid of you after that. And if you think he won't, you're crazy. He doesn't give a damn about you, and he doesn't want that kid you were dumb enough to get knocked up with. And let me tell you something else"--she hopped off the stool and swung one well-formed hip--"if you think you're going to hang on to him when we get back to New York, you're nuts."

All day she hid in the theater, trying to concentrate on her work. And when at last Anthony arrived for the performance, she slipped into his dressing room and closed the door. She was there waiting for him when he walked into it, and fortunately he was alone. He eyed her strangely, and then walked to the closet and hung up his coat.

"What do you want, Bettina?"

"To talk." Her voice was firm, and he looked vague.

"I don't have time. I have to do my makeup for the show."

"Fine. We can talk while you do it." She pulled up a chair and sat down and he looked annoyed. "I had a little talk with your friend Jeannie today."

"What about?" He suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, let's see. Oh ... that's right, she says that you married me just to get a green card, and that when the mandatory six months of living together are up in three weeks, then you're going to split. She also told me that you're crazy about her, more or less. She's awfully cute, darling. But is she accurate? That's what I wanted to ask you."

"Don't be silly." He avoided her eyes and dug around in his makeup box, but Bettina was right behind him, watching him in the mirror when he raised his eyes.

"What does that mean, Anthony?"

"It means that she may have gotten a little carried away."

Bettina grabbed his arm. "But that was more or less the truth, is that it? Is that what you're telling me, Anthony? Are you going to leave me after this show? Because if that's what you have in mind, I'd like to get used to the idea right now. I mean, after all"--she started to lose control of her voice and she sounded panicky--"I am having a baby and it might be nice to know if I'm going to be alone."

But suddenly he stood up and faced her, and he was shouting as he did. "I told you not to have the fucking baby, dammit! Everything would have been perfectly simple if you'd done as I said!" But he suddenly seemed to regret what he was saying and sat down.

"She was telling the truth, then?" Bettina's voice was grim. "It was just for the green card?"

And then for once he looked at her honestly and nodded. "Yes." She closed her eyes as she heard him and sat back down.

"My God, and I believed you." She looked at him and started to laugh as tears filled her eyes. "What a brilliant actor you are after all."

"It wasn't like that." He hung his head sheepishly.

"Wasn't it?"

"No. I cared about you, I really did. I just couldn't see it forever ... I don't know ... we're very different...."

"You bastard." She'd been had, then. She'd been had all along. She slammed the door to his dressing room and hurried back toward the stage. The performance went smoothly and she left the theater immediately afterward, went back to the hotel, and asked for her own room. Not that it mattered, he probably wouldn't have come back to spend the night. But she didn't want to chance it. She wanted to be alone to think.

Now she was going to go home and write her play. And in another five months she'd have the baby.... As she thought of it she closed her eyes tightly and tried not to cry. But it was hopeless. Each time she thought of having the baby alone, with no father, she panicked and wanted desperately to reach out to him ... Ivo ... anyone ... she couldn't do it alone ... couldn't ... but she had to. Now she had no choice.

After hours of crying and mulling it over, at last she fell asleep, and it was four in the morning when she awakened with a strange sensation of cramps, and when she sat up in bed and looked down at the sheets, she saw blood. Her first instinct was to panic, and then she forced herself to calm down. After all, this was Atlanta. They had good hospitals. Two days earlier she had seen a doctor; now all she had to do was call the hospital and ask for him.

When she called, the nurse in the emergency room listened to the symptoms and told her to come in right away. She assured Bettina that it was probably nothing. Sometimes bleeding occurred, and with a few days of rest everything settled down. She told her to just have her husband bring her in. It was a nice assumption, but Bettina didn't even call his room. She dressed hastily, trying to stand upright in spite of the strange cramps, and she hurried to the lobby, and then out to the street to call a cab. But just walking from her room to the lobby had increased the intensity of the pain, and she was writhing badly in the backseat of the taxi as they hurried to the hospital. The driver caught sight of her in the rearview mirror, and suddenly she gasped and then there was a small scream.

"Lady, you all right back there?"

She tried to reassure him, but just as she did so, she was caught unprepared by another searing pain. "Ohhh ... God ... no ... I'm ... oh, please ... can you hurry...." But from the mild discomfort of only half an hour ago, she was suddenly in almost unbearable pain.

"Lie down on the seat." She tried to lie there, but even lying down no longer helped. She couldn't lie still on the seat as he drove her. She kept having to turn and clutch, and suddenly she wanted to tear and scream.

"Oh, God ... hurry ... I can't--"

They got the information they needed about her identity and her insurance from the wallet in her handbag; Bettina was too far gone to make any sense. She could barely speak. All she could do was clutch the straps on the gurney, and every few minutes she writhed horribly and screamed. The three nurses hovering over her exchanged a look, and then nodded, and when the doctor came in she was rushed immediately to a delivery room. The baby came only half an hour later. A small fetus that shot out of her as she screamed uncontrollably. It was already dead.