Splintered Heart (37 page)

She nodded. "You want me to depart like an honorable gentleman, to the twenty-third floor to my separate room?"

Marian nodded.

"I feel like I should be staying here," he pointed to the bed, "not up there," he pointed up.

Marian nodded again. Stephen was saying exactly what she was feeling.

"Marian you keep nodding, You don't know what you want right now." He picked up his coat, tie and brief case. "Fourteen years ago, after that night we almost spent together, when I phoned you the next day you had your mind made up. This time we're going to make the decision together — fifty-fifty?"

"O.K."

"You know I can be very persuasive."

She nodded.

Stephen kissed Marian. It was a long and lovely kiss, not pressuring, but the kind that made Marian want to cuddle, go to sleep in his arms.

At the door, Stephen said, "I'm sure looking forward to more fifty-fifty discussion of this subject tomorrow."

"Me too!" Even though Marian didn't know how the fifty-fifty discussion was going to end up, it was exactly the truth.

++++++++++

Chapter 63

"Oh dear, can I do it?" Marian moaned. The new day was creeping under the drapes, scratching her eyelids. Morning ablutions seemed like an overwhelming chore. She dreaded the breakfast meeting. She could picture the "girls" decorating themselves for each other's approval — two hours of buzzing before she'd be able to get away, go off to the Style Show Luncheon, and be hostess for five-hundred guests. Marian was looking forward to
 
that
, but the breakfast meeting gave her a stage fright stomach.

Hadn't somebody said — 'Take it step by step and be yourself'? Whoever it was — Stephen-Dave-Ferris Cooper-Kay-MacGregor wasn't around, didn't have to get up, get going, and impress a lot of critical women.

Only as Marian was putting on her speech outfit, did she begin to feel a little better. It was ultra simple, a no-color, skin color outfit that made you focus on the face, not the dress. Of course the fashion-loving ladies would be X-ray eyeing it, putting price tags on it — the sleeves were special — full-length, billowing, making even a small hand move into an important gesture. It was absolutely perfect for getting people to give away their money.

Struggling with cuff links, wishing Mr. Stephen-Dave-Ferris Cooper-Kay-MacGregor were around to help, an idea popped into Marian's brain.

...If I had a California branch office to help with this children's campaign...

She'd had the thought before. It was just a daydream. Beth was waiting in the lobby. There was certainly no time to grab on and shape it but suddenly her stomach ache was gone and Marian found herself looking forward to coffee conversation with the girls.

During the breakfast meeting, the branch office idea came back — kept flickering and tickling her while she was chatting and sipping. Somehow it helped Marian to be more scintillating and at the same time, more relaxed — the ladies were offering to work their fingers to the bone for Marian's project in any capacity — it all fit together in an unformed, fuzzy and vague sort of way.

In the driveway, Marian saw that they were going to be driven by Beth's chauffeur in the Weidman's nifty Cadillac. She'd been dreading another nerve wracking ride in the convertible. Making a speech was nothing to worry about, but windblown hair was serious!

"Do you mind if we stop off in the dressing room. I want to see if the models need anything?" Beth said, as they pulled up.

"I don't mind."

"I'm a nervous wreck. How about you?"

"I'm fine." It seemed to be turning into one of those days where you could just relax, and let it happen.

The dressing room was a dozen beauties in various stages of undress grabbing at hangers, begging for pins, grimacing and posturing in the mirrors. The colognes, deodorants, powders and hair lacquers were a killer smog.

"Got an extra hair clip, honey?" a model asked them.

"What an adorable dress," another murmured, brushing past.

"Anybody have a tampax?" Someone moaned.

"This is Marian Cooper, the guest of honor, girls," Beth Weidman announced as she moved off to a mirror to work on herself.

Watching from the sidelines, Marian felt peaceful, poised, and absolutely ready for anything.

"Mrs. Cooper? I just think that is the loveliest dress!" came a voice.

It belonged to a goddess of a creature, who was standing on a table while two men were pinning her hem. She looked like a work of art.

"Why, thank you." Marian was flattered that the creature had noticed.

"You can only get a dress like that in New York."

"You have very nice things in California," Marian said.

"But New York things are so much better. I think I know your husband." The model was pivoting slowly. "Ferris Cooper? We did some terrific commercials together. I'm looking forward to your speech."

Beth tapped Marian's shoulder. "Time to go, dear!"

"Good luck, Mrs. Cooper," the model called.

"Isn't she smashing?" Beth guided Marian into the elegantly decorated meeting room, "She's donating her services — Georgianna's one of our top models!"

There was a round of applause as they took their seats on the raised platform at the center table.

From that point on, the schedule Elena had arranged took over.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Marian began, exactly as planned, as the dessert dishes were being cleared, "We are here, this afternoon, for the children..." The carefully prepared words were spoken but Marian's own personal feelings about the project inspired a few extra words here and there, every so often an aside or an occasional extra sentence. The laughs and audience response came in as if on cue. The speech flowed. It built. It worked.

When Marian finished a few people stood up and then a few more and then the entire audience was on their feet voicing their support.

As the music began for the Style Show and the narrator was introducing the morning play clothes, people began coming up to the guest of honor with donations and pledges. And it didn't stop, not even when the swim suits almost stopped the show. There was a steady stream of VIP's with checkbooks, surrounding Marian at the center table.

"It's going great, Mari. Aren't you even going to taste the dessert," Beth whispered, as the narrator introduced the finale.

"...And now, for California nights...An imported sheer silk. May I present our Piece de Resistance — the lovely Miss Georgianna — in
 
Moonlight Gossamer
."

A young woman tapped Marian on the shoulder. "I'm Scotty, follow me!"

In a nearby room, Scotty took over. "Your assistant is just so helpful, Mrs. Cooper." Scotty helpfully guided Marian into position. "Now if you could sit here with one of the kiddies on your lap, the Senator could be greeting you..."

Howard Weidman took over, joking with reporters, jollying up the stone-faced children while keeping a dialogue going with Marian as if they were dear old friends — "Of course, you'll be coming out to our place? I fix excellent Daiquiris."

"Could you move a little to the left, Senator, the light's better," Scotty called out.

Complying with Scotty's directions, the Senator said, "I missed the speech. Came in during the applause, but you certainly had them in your spell." He slid an arm around Marian, smiling for a photographer while continuing their private conversation. "I'll wager you could give me some pointers my dear."

"My husband, Ferris, is the one who could give you some pointers, Howard."

"Your husband's in television?"

"A little more over this way, please," the vigilant Scotty called out.

Beth had Scotty well trained, but the Senator managed to keep a hand on Marian's shoulder, massaging it as he re-adjusted his position and continued asking about Ferris' business.

A television crew took over with a mini-cam and blue-white lights for about ten minutes. When they took a break, Scotty moved in. "Some of the models are here. Now, if you could stand here, Marian..."

Georgianna and two other models were at the door.

"Thanks Scotty, but I think I've done enough posing," Marian said.

The Senator gave Marian a farewell squeeze. "This weekend you and I are going to find time for a
 
real
 
private talk!"

"That'll be delightful," said Marian, certain that a private talk with Howard Weidman would not take place.

"We've got to hurry!" Beth hooked onto Marian's arm. "The VanSants are dying to meet you — they're late for a Doctor's appointment. They own this entire building."

On the penthouse tower floor, Beth led Marian through a circular hallway to the glass tower office where the distinguished looking couple was waiting. Immediately after the handshakes, VanSant asked how and where the funds were going to be allocated.

It was a difficult moment.

Marian was feeling the strain of the day. She wasn't in the mood to bluff, she didn't have the figures on the tip of her tongue and though it wasn't the way fund-raising was usually done, she went straight to the point. "Could you donate a million dollars?"

VanSant chuckled, answered, "Yes." He turned to his wife who nodded. "We'll meet with our lawyers and accountants on Monday." Then they all shook hands.

Mrs. VanSant made small talk as they were waiting for the elevator. "I was very moved by your speech Mrs. Cooper, and that style show, Beth — that moonlight outfit the tall girl was wearing — what's her name — wouldn't you give anything to look like that!"

The moment they were gone, Beth exploded, "A million! I nearly fainted! The most I ever expected from them was a hundred thousand! Mari, they know everybody! If you have them on your side, you've made it in this city!"

They were standing at the glass double doors. Marian moved out to the circular patio, looked down. Many floors below there was a circular driveway, a fountain, a tiny pool ringed with California palm trees, tiny people arriving and departing in their automobiles.

She thought about Georgianna. But not very long or very hard. A voice was saying "Do it," drowning out black thoughts and a myriad of other thoughts — questions, practicalities — it was all a jumble and everything except 'Do it' seemed inconsequential.

"Beth, I want to open up a California office." Marian felt as if she were a high diver about to jump into the tiny pool far below. It was scary, but it seemed like crazy heady fun. "It's the next step for me Beth, and I want to do it now."

"Why, Mari, that's a terrific idea!"

"I want you to help me. Set it up for me, Beth. I've got two-dozen projects that need full-time attention, but you could talk to Real Estate agents. You can rent the space for us. Get decorators, hire a secretary, get the telephones, stationery, and office equipment."

"Mari, my God, you think I could do all that? I'd be thrilled to do it but..."

"While the physical plant is being set up," Marian was already making a timetable, "you hire a P.R. firm and engage a firm of lawyers..."

"Mari, I've been a housewife for fifteen years. I don't have executive skills. I don't have that kind of energy!"

"Of course you do. You put that kind of energy and executive skills into organizing Howard's life, his schedule, his wardrobe, his appointments — "

"Including the girl friends. Yes, that certainly takes some skillful handling and planning. He made a pass at you, didn't he?"

"Beth, you picked a handsome, attractive man who is always going to attract women. You can't devote your life to keeping him out of mischief — it's better to be single than do that to yourself!"

"Ferris plays around, doesn't he?"

"He did. He does. He probably will." It was the first time Marian had let that thought come to her so matter-of-factly.

"How long do you think it'll take to get our office going?"

"At least a month. As soon as I'm on the plane, you could start looking for space."

"Hell, we'll start tomorrow while you're here! I know some Real Estate agents. What about this building?" Beth was already gleefully looking around, beginning to plan.

"What about all our California 'work' — the Daiquiris by the pool? We'll have to put off a lot of personal things, won't we?" Marian was thinking of the room on the twenty-third floor in her hotel and Dr. Stephen MacGregor.

"Everything's postponed as of now, my dear boss. I'll give you a rain check!"

"Yes." Marian agreed, wondering if Stephen would do the same.

++++++++++

Chapter 64

Marian left a note for Stephen at the main desk.

"Stephen, I've decided to set up a West coast office. It's something I've been dreaming of for a long time. I'm flying back East to start planning. There are a lot of loose ends, lots of decisions to make. So I won't be phoning your room, dear Stephen. We'll have to postpone our fifty-fifty discussion. Can I have a rain check? Love, M."

++++++++++

Chapter 65

"What's so urgent that it can't wait till tomorrow?" Charles opened the door to his apartment a few inches. He was disheveled, holding a drink. "You've been putting it off for months, what's the hurry now? You're pissed off because I phoned your dear Courtney, told him to shove it?"

"Charles, this isn't a discussion to have in a hallway."

Charles opened his front door wide with a grand gesture. He staggered as Ferris entered. "Where shall we sit? In the kitchen? Throat-cutting is so much more convenient when there's a sink around."

"No one is cutting your throat Charles."

"My lover is making a new life for himself in Texas. My business partner makes a new corporation, steals my clients, tries to destroy my reputation and you don't think I might be bleeding a bit?"

"I warned you. I tried to tell you about the new corporation but you wouldn't listen. I haven't stolen any clients. We discussed O.A.'s ideas and agreed I should handle the account. You'll get your commission."

Charles re-filled his glass with vodka. "I get shit and you get shinola — "

"Charles, the new set up doesn't stop us from continuing to work together on our present clients."

"Up yours and screw you, dear heart!" Charles tilted his glass, drank it half way down.

"Charles put down the damn drink." Ferris tried to take the glass.

"Go fuck yourself," Charles wrestled the glass from Ferris' grasp, pulling so violently that the goblet smashed against the table. He began hitting wildly at Ferris with what was left of the glass, screaming, blubbering, "I will make you pay for what you've done..."

It was as if Charles had pulled a knife out of the drawer and slashed him. Blood was streaming down Ferris' cheek. "Goddammit, name a price, Chaz, I'll buy you out! Act like a man for a change, dammit!"

Sniveling, blinking, muttering, Charles wiped his nose on his sleeve, then, straightened up the rest of himself — first his hair, then the robe.

With a hand on his hip, deliberately taking female's stance and nasty lady tone, he smiled. "Dear heart, you have it all wrong, you've had it wrong for a long time.
 
You
 
are working for
 
me
, lovey, from here on in!"

"You're drunk. We'll talk tomorrow."

"We'll talk
 
now
, sweetie! My lawyer says I have legal grounds to sue you."

"What grounds?"

"You'll find out soon enough sweetie, we'll draw up legal papers, re-define our partnership tilting
 
my
 
way — seventy-percent to Riche, thirty to Cooper!"

"You're dreaming, Charles."

"We'll see who's dreaming when your wife gets back."

"What the hell does Marian have to do with it?"

"That bitch is not running my life anymore!"

"Jesus God, you're off your rocker!"

"Oh sweetie, you are going to beg me on your hands and knees to let you sign on the dotted line!"

"Like Hell I am!"

"Ooo wheee — wonder what Marian will say when I tell her about Andrea and the Nembutal?"

"You can't blackmail me."

"Andrea's three months pregnant, dear heart."

"Charles, you're destroying whatever possibility we ever had for continuing any relationship." Ferris was at the door.

"Poor childless Marian, I wonder how she'll — "

Ferris moved in fast, hit Charles, slapped him hard, first with the front of his hand, then with the back.

When Charles crumpled, Ferris started to pick him up. He was going to hit him again, but suddenly, seeing his partner cowering, the whole situation was intolerable.

Ferris was at the door, on his way out when Charles called to him in a purring, mocking sing song, "Sweetie, what about
 
Lena
?"

Ferris stopped.

"Such a charming bed time story. Marian will love to hear how we three got drunk that night — those yummy rum stingers we had! I invented the hacienda in Bogata but you — you were always so clever with words. '
D'Ortega'
 
— such a brilliant last name you invented for Lena."

"You bastard."

"Or perhaps Marian would like to hear about her hubby in the dark room — humping and screwing her precious assistant!"

Ferris went out, closed the door quietly behind him.

In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and wept.

++++++++++

Chapter 66

Marian put her suitcases down and called out "anybody home?" The keys were jingling in the lock. "It's me. I'm home!" Marian sang out, putting them in the pewter plate on the table. The clang they made as they hit the plate was the bell signaling a memory.

Defying tradition, she plucked them up off the plate and dropped them back into her purse.

"Hel-lo!" She called again.

The living room was tidy.

Her feet took her down the familiar corridor.

The kitchen was spotless, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. There weren't even dishes in the sink.

Rinsing off the travel grime, the window above the sink was a mirror. H lines were there and twigs, because she was smiling. She didn't pay much attention, she was planning the rest of the day.

In the maid's room, the schedule was in its usual place. But a parcel was in the center of the desk.

Something about it warned Marian, even before she picked it up, that she'd better take a deep breath. Then it was in her hands and she saw the return address, and knew she was holding all that remained of her brother.

Looking out the window at the familiar courtyard, she remembered the pop-up book — the silvery stubble, the way Ralph had stared at the palm tree. It was not a happy memory.

Marian put the parcel down between dictionary and thesaurus, books she used frequently. Memories, like wrinkles and H lines, weren't going to go away. They just looked different in different light and the light kept changing.

En route to the bedroom to change into comfortable shoes, Marian passed the open door to Ferris' study.

He was asleep in his lounge chair. Newspapers were in on the floor, the
 
Wall Street
 
Journal
 
was still in his lap. His briefcase was open on the desk, its contents scattered about.

Marian closed the door to the study gently.

In the bedroom, the bed was unmade, there was a soiled shirt on the chair, an open book on the night table, but Marian left things as they were.

She put on sandals, gave her hair a couple of pats. Being home was a good feeling. So was the sense of having been at this moment before.

"And if Ferris hadn't been asleep in the lounge chair?" Marian asked the air. "Suppose I'd have found sausage pillows, T.S. Eliot by the bed? A half-slip in the hamper?"

"You'd handle it somehow or other. You'd be OK," Marian answered herself. It made her smile, the sense of a circle that she had completed.

++++++++++

Chapter 67

"I don't like it, Andrea. Either phone her or let's call the police," Aldo said.

"I don't want to phone her, Aldo. Anyway the home phone is unlisted.

"Call her at work."

"I can't do that! Maybe I should phone Ferris?" But as soon as Andrea said it, she knew it wasn't right. "Maybe I should ask Myra to phone."

"Jesus, don't bring fruitcake Myra into it!"

Andrea sighed "Maybe we shouldn't do anything, Aldo? I mean, how long can a person go on with a dumb telephone game?"

"Andy, it's been months. Christ, you realize how many times that dame phoned this weekend? Every two hours, all through Saturday and into Sunday morning. That is one crazy lady. You know, maybe it would be better if I went to the cops."

"No, I've got to do it, Aldo. I'll phone Marian Cooper at her office!"

* * *

Marian flipped through the pages of her calendar, stopped at her birthday. The date was a good one. A birthday, like New Year's, was a day for resolutions. "I think I'm going to be giving a party, Elena."

"A party? For the staff?" Elena's pencil was poised, ready to write.

Marian circled the date. "You're invited. I may invite some other staff people. But I think it'll probably be a fairly small gathering at my home."

Elena looked up questioningly. She'd never been invited to Mari's home for a party. "Will you want invitations sent out? Catering? A bartender?"

"I'm not sure yet. Just put it down the 20th of next month." Marian could see that Elena was very curious. "We'll talk about it when the time gets closer. Right now I want to tell you about some new plans. While I was in California, with Beth's help, I leased a space in Los Angeles."

"A West Coast office? Mari, you did it?"

"Started it. There are a lot of decisions pending, how to staff it for instance. It's something for you to be thinking about too, Elena."

"You mean you want me to move out there? Oh Mari, it's just what the Doctor ordered!"

"I'm not concerned with what your Doctor ordered, I'm concerned with what you'd do if I offered the job to you?"

"Oh Mari, it's what I need. I'm ready for big change. This is thrilling, fantastico, like a dream come true!"

"Elena, I said
 
think
 
about it. There are a lot of personal factors and other decisions involved that I'm considering."

"You mean, you might move out there? What about Ferris?" Elena was bursting with questions.

"As I said, there are various factors I'm going to be evaluating." Marian picked up the file folder of letters that had accumulated in her absence.

"Is Ferris out of town?"

"No."

"Oh! I just wondered. He usually phones you, at least once a day. I was just wondering..."

"Put the date of the party down on your schedule. I'll have a decision about the West Coast office by then. Now, let's go through the mail."

"Here are your phone calls," Elena put the paper on the driftwood table. "Who is Miss McCreedy? She's already called twice this morning."

* * *

"Wow, you're back," Dave Kay recognized her voice immediately. "What are you doing tonight? Can we work?"

"Maybe next week. I want to invite you to my party on the 20th."

"I hate parties. What kind of party?"

"Some social loose ends, I need to have a party."

"This isn't a brush off is it?"

"Of course not."

"You can't brush me off, I'm your partner — Kay and Cooper. We have backers auditions to attend."