Once in a Lifetime (31 page)

And at last, at ten o'clock that night, seventeen hours after they'd all shown up for work that morning, Howard Stern threw down his hat with disgust. "I don't know what's wrong with you bastards today, but this whole day has been shot. Wakefield, get over your sniveling moods and long face. I want everyone back here at five o'clock tomorrow morning, and whatever the problem is, you'd better fucking work it out." It was the last they heard from him before he left, and Justin slammed into his dressing room without giving Daphne a second glance. But he made sure to walk directly past her, so that she could see how rotten he felt.

She walked silently back to the limo with Barbara and lay back against the seat with an exhausted sigh.

"Nice day, huh?" Barbara smiled as they wended their way home, but Daphne wasn't in the mood to talk. She was thinking about Justin, and wondering if she was wrong.

The next day was scarcely better, only this time she and Justin didn't speak at all. Howard let them off the set that night at seven thirty. He said he'd had enough of all of them to last him for a year.

But the next day it was as though there was magic in the air. When Justin arrived on the set, there was something hungry and angry and soulful burning in his eyes, and he tore everyone's guts out with his performance. At the end of a four-hour stretch with scarcely any retakes, Howard rushed over and kissed him on both cheeks, and the whole crew gave a cheer. For whatever reason, Justin had revived, and Daphne felt less guilty as she strolled over to the commissary for lunch. She was surprised when he sat down at her table, and she looked at him with a shy smile.

"You did a beautiful job today, Justin." She didn't ask what had changed his mood, but whatever it was, she was glad it had happened.

"I had to. I felt I owed it to Howard. I was making everyone pay for what I felt."

She nodded, looking first at her plate and then at him. "I'm sorry I upset you."

"So am I. But I happen to think you're worth it." She wanted to cry as he said it. She had been hoping that he'd given up. "But if this is the way you want it, Daff, I guess I'll have just to accept it. May I be your friend?" He said it with such humility and tenderness that tears filled her eyes and she reached for his hand and held it in one of her own.

"You already are my friend, Justin. And I know I'm not easy to understand, but a lot of very painful things have happened in my life. I can't help that. Just accept me as I am. It will be easier for both of us."

"That's hard for me to do, but I'll try."

"Thank you."

"I can't stop what I feel, though." She still felt that he didn't know her, and it made her unhappy that he was being so tenacious, but maybe that was just the way he was, and if they were truly going to be friends, then she had to accept him, too.

"I'll try to respect that."

"And I'll respect you." And then he chuckled and whispered, "But I still think you're crazy." She laughed at the look on his face then and she couldn't help telling him of what she had thought the other day.

"Do you realize that I'm probably the only woman in America who would keep you out of her bed?"

"You want a presidential award for it?" He looked amused and she laughed.

"Are you giving one out?"

"Hell, why not, if it'll make you happy." And then they went back to talking about the making of the movie, but that night he showed up on her doorstep with a plaque he'd had made by the guys in the prop room. It was a bronze plaque, carefully mounted, and exquisitely engraved. It was a presidential award to Miss Daphne Fields, for bravery above and beyond the call of duty, in keeping Justin Wakefield out of her bed. She roared with laughter when she saw it, kissed him on the cheek, and invited him in for a beer.

"You wanted a plaque, so I took you at your word."

She propped it up on the kitchen counter and handed him a glass and a beer. "Have you eaten?"

"I had a hamburger after work. How about a swim in your pool?" It was already eight o'clock, but it was a beautiful night and Daphne was tempted.

"Can I trust you?"

"What? Not to pee in your pool?" For a man of his age he was more like a boy than an adult, but she liked that about him. It was refreshing at times, and sometimes it drove her crazy.

"You know what I mean, Wakefield." She looked at him sternly.

"Yes, I do, Fields." He returned the look with mock grimness. And then he laughed. "Yes, you can trust me. Christ, you're a twit, Daff. You put a hell of a lot of effort into stifling your feelings. Is anything worth that much trouble?"

"Yes." She smiled at him. "I think so."

"Well, no one can say you're easy. At least I can't." And then with a sad, lonely look on his face, "Or is it just me?"

"Oh, Justin"--she didn't want him to believe that-- "of course not, you dummy. I've just lived this way for a long time, and I'm happy like this. I don't want to change that."

"I got the message."

"I got the plaque." She smiled at him gently, and then waved toward her bedroom. "I'll go put my bathing suit on." She put on a modest navy blue bikini, and when she came out, he was already in the pool.

"The water is fabulous." He dove deeper into the pool and she could vaguely glimpse that he had a white suit on, and she dove in neatly, and met him at the bottom of the pool. It was then that she realized that the white suit was only the small strip of flesh on his buttocks devoid of suntan, and when they came to the surface she looked at him in disapproval.

"Justin, it's about your suit..."

"I don't like to wear one. Do you mind?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No." He grinned happily and dove again, tickling her feet as he went, and then he came up like a dolphin and he grabbed her and pulled her down with him. She resisted, pulling against him. He playfully pulled back. For ten minutes they played the game until finally Justin slowed down.

"Do you always have this much energy after work?"

"Only when I'm happy."

"You know, for a grown man you act like a little kid."

"Thank you." No one would have guessed that he was over forty, but Daphne had to admit that in his company she felt younger too. "You know, you look great in a bikini, Daff. But you'd look better without one."

"Don't be a pest." She swam a few laps then and slowly climbed the ladder and got out of the pool. And as she wrapped herself in a towel she turned her back, having noticed that he was getting out of the pool too. "There's a towel on the chair."

"Thanks." But when she turned around, he hadn't used it. Instead, he stood before her in all his dripping naked beauty with the moonlight above them and a sky filled with stars. They said not a word for an endless moment, and he took one step forward and took her in his arms. He kissed her with all the gentleness of his childlike soul, and he held her, and she felt him tremble as she did, not sure if it was from desire or the cold. And for reasons she couldn't explain to herself as she stood there, she let him hold her, and felt her mouth respond to his as they kissed. It seemed hours before he turned away from her, and wrapped himself tightly in the towel she had provided, hoping to quell the ardor that had sprung to him. "I'm sorry, Daff." It was the voice of a small boy as he stood with his back turned to her, and she wasn't quite sure what to say. She had wanted him very badly for a moment, and she touched his back gently with her hand.

"Justin ... it's all right ... I ..." He turned to face her then and their eyes met.

"I want you, Daphne. I know you don't want to hear it. But I love you."

"You're crazy. You're a wild, crazy boy in the body of a man." And once again she remembered Howard's warning ... remember that actors are children. And Justin was. Or was he? He didn't look like one now as he took a step toward her and held her face in his hands.

"I love you. Can you really not believe that?"

"I don't want to believe it."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do believe it"--she hesitated, her whole body trembling in the warm air--"and I let myself love you too ... one day we'll get hurt and I don't want that."

"I won't hurt you. Ever. I swear that."

She sighed and leaned her head against his naked chest as he folded her into his arms. "That's something no one can promise."

"I'm not going to die like the others, Daff. You can't be afraid of that forever."

"I'm not. I'm just afraid of losing what I love ... of hurting and getting hurt..."

He pulled her away from him then and looked into her eyes so she could see his, just as she did with Andrew when she wanted him to read her lips.

"You won't get hurt, Daff. Trust me." She wanted to ask him why but she could no longer fight it, the words didn't sound right anymore. Not even to her. She let him kiss her and hold her, and a little while later he carried her into her bedroom, and they lay on her bed and made love until dawn. They got up together the next morning, and he made her coffee and toast and they stood in the shower, kissing and laughing, and Daphne could no longer remember why she had fought so hard and so long to stay alone.

And when Barbara came home from Tom's at five o'clock to go to the studio with Daphne, there was shock in her eyes when she found Justin in the kitchen in his white jeans and bare feet.

"Have a good night, Barb?" His eyes locked into hers as they stood there. She had a wild instinct to protect Daphne from him, but she knew it was too late for that now.

"Yes, very, thanks." But her eyes said all that she thought and he understood her.

And at five fifteen they all got into Daphne's limo and rode to the studio. Justin put in a brilliant performance, and when everyone went to lunch, they snuck into his dressing room and made love until two o'clock in the afternoon, when everyone came back to the set to work on the movie.

Working on a, movie set is like being trapped in an elevator for an entire summer, and there can be no secrets from the others. Within a week everyone on the set knew that Daphne and Justin were lovers, and only Howard dared to make comment, one morning over coffee and donuts.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. They're all children. Spoiled children." But Daphne was already under Justin's spell.

He sent her flowers on the set, baked her cookies at midnight in her kitchen, bought her countless small, thoughtful gifts, and made love to her whenever and wherever they could. At night they lay beside her pool, and he recited love poems to her that he had learned as a child, and told her funny stories about the making of other movies that made her laugh until she cried.

The movie itself was going beautifully, well ahead of schedule, much to Howard's delight, and there were few problems on the set. Daphne had learned more about making a film in the last three weeks than she had hoped to in the entire year.

"And when we finish this one, my love, we'll make another, and another ... and another.... We're an unbeatable team, kid." And she was inclined to agree. The only trouble with their affair was that she knew that Barbara didn't like him and it was causing tension between them that was a constant strain. Barbara tried not to say anything about it, but it was obvious in all that she didn't say. At night, at Tom's place, she would talk to him about it and he would try to calm her, but it was useless.

"She's a grown woman, Barb. And she has decent judgment. You've said so yourself. Why not just stay out of it? We have our life, let her have hers."

"Her judgment happens to stink in this instance. The guy is out to use her, Tom, I know it."

"No, you don't, you suspect it. You have no evidence of that."

"Stop sounding like a lawyer."

"Then stop sounding like her mother." He tried to kiss her into silence, but he couldn't quell her fears. She was terrified that Justin was using Daphne. There was something that made her not trust him and she was never quite sure what it was. He had all but moved in with Daphne, and he was constantly with her, at the set, in the house, out to dinner, at parties. It was a new life for Daphne and she seemed to enjoy it, but there still wasn't total bliss in her eyes. The years before had left their mark. And she was unhappy that she didn't have enough contact with Andrew. She still wrote to him every day, but there seemed to be no break scheduled in the shooting, when she could go back to see him, or have him come out to her. And there were long gaps between her phone calls to Matthew at the school. She never seemed to have enough time to call now. It seemed as though every time she told Justin she was going to call, he would distract her with a kiss, or a caress or a problem.

Finally one night Matthew caught her at home. "Has Hollywood won your heart, Miss Fields, or are you just too busy to call?" She had felt guilty when he had called her, and for a moment she feared that something had happened to her son.

"Is Andrew all right?" Her heart was pounding but he put her mind quickly to rest.

"He's fine. But I have to admit that I was getting lonely. How's the movie coming?"

"Fine. Terrific, in fact." But he also heard something else in her voice and he wasn't sure what it was. There was a distance between them that hadn't been there before, and he found himself anxious about what it was. Maybe it was just the movie, but he didn't really think so. And then the second time he had called her, Justin had answered the phone.

"What school?" Justin sounded vague. He was reading the next day's lines, and Daphne was in the tub. "Ho--what?"

"Howarth. She'll know." He was desperately sorry he had called her.

"Oh." Justin suddenly remembered. "Her kid. Well, she can't come to the phone. She's in the bathtub." Matthew inwardly cringed. So that was the reason for her distance and her silence. There was a man in her life. It grieved him, but he hoped that at least he was a nice man. She deserved someone wonderful because she was wonderful. "Should I give her a message?"

"Please tell her that her son is fine."

"I will." He hung up and looked at his watch then. It was eleven thirty in New Hampshire. It was a hell of a strange time for them to call. He wandered into the bathroom and told Daphne that someone had called her from her kid's school. "He said to tell you that your son is fine." And then he looked at her strangely. "It's awfully late for him to call. Who is that?"