Star (27 page)

“Yes?”

“Crystal?” It was his voice and she closed her eyes as she listened. She didn’t answer for a long moment, and he said her name again, sounding worried and unhappy.

“Yes?”

“It’s Spencer.”

“Congratulations.” His heart stopped as she said the word and then instantly he knew. The Barclays would have put the announcement in the local papers. He had wanted to tell her himself, but now it was too late. She knew already.

“I came back to New York to break it off. I swear. The night I came back I even told her.”

“I guess you both decided you didn’t mean it.”

“It wasn’t that … it … I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.” She wanted to be angry at him,
and she was, and yet now, listening to him, all she felt was enormous sadness. She had lost so many people she cared about, and now he was just one more. He was gone. Out of her life now forever. Like the others. But this time could have been so different. “You don’t owe me anything, Spencer.”

“That’s not the point … Crystal, I love you …” It was a terrible thing to say to her in the face of the announcement of his engagement. “I don’t mean to make things more difficult. I just want you to know that. Maybe our lives were just too far apart. We never had a chance to get to know each other….” It was a poor excuse. Instinctively he knew how well they would get along, how perfectly suited they would be. But he had opted for cool reality instead of gentle illusion. “It all got so complicated once I got back here.” She had seemed so unreal to him then, but talking to her on the phone made him ache to hold her again and feel her near him.

And at her end, as she listened to him, she was silently crying. She wanted to hate him, but she didn’t. “She must be a very special person.”

He hesitated for a moment, wanting to tell her the truth, how much more special she was to him than Elizabeth, and yet that wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t let it. “It’s very different from what you and I have felt. It doesn’t have the same kind of magic.”

“Then why are you doing it?” She didn’t understand anymore. It was all too confusing.

“To be honest with you, I’m not sure. Maybe because it was too complicated not to.”

“That’s not much of a reason to get married.” He knew it too, and there was very little he could say in answer.

“I know that. I know this sounds crazy, but I’ll write to you … just to see how you are … or can I call
you?” He couldn’t stand the thought of losing sight of her again. Not again. He needed to know that she was all right, and be there if she needed him, but she didn’t want that.

The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks again, and she shook her head. “Don’t … you’re going to be married. We never had anything anyway. Just a dream. I don’t want to hear from you. It would just remind me of what we never had.” What she said was true, but it depressed him even more to know that she wanted no contact with him.

“Will you call me if you need anything?”

“Like what?” She smiled through her tears. “How about a movie contract in Hollywood? You got one of those?”

“Sure …” He smiled through his own tears. “For you, anything.” Anything except what they both wanted more than life itself. And he was screwing it up, because he had decided Elizabeth was the “right thing.” Talking to Crystal again he was no longer sure. Maybe she was right not to let him call her. He wanted to get on the next plane now just to be with her, but he couldn’t do that to either of them, he had to try and do things right with Elizabeth. He owed her that much. And he wouldn’t have done that to Crystal. “I guess I’m going to be seeing your name up in lights one of these days … or I’ll be buying your records.” And he meant it.

“Maybe one day.” But she wasn’t thinking about that now. She was only thinking of him, and how much she would miss him. “I’m glad I saw you again … even with all this … it was worth it.” Even for a few days of dreams. At least she had seen him. And held him. And touched him. And he had told her he loved her.

“I don’t know how you can say that now. I feel like a
real shit … especially with your seeing it first in the papers.”

She shrugged. Maybe it didn’t matter now. Maybe nothing did. He had never been part of her life. He had only been a dream, from beginning to end … but a nice dream. And then, wishing she was stronger than that, she started to cry again, but it hurt so much to say good-bye to him, knowing it was forever. “I hope you’ll be happy.”

“So do I.” But he sounded less than sure of it. “Promise you’ll call me if you need me. I’m serious, Crystal.” He knew she had no one else now, except the Websters, and they couldn’t have done much to help her.

“I’ll be okay.” She smiled and fought back the tears again. “I’m tough, you know.”

“Yeah … I know that … I just wish you didn’t have to be. You deserve to have someone terrific to take care of you.” He wanted to add “and I wish I were that person,” but it would have been too cruel, and too pointless for both of them. And then, knowing there was nothing left to say, “Good-bye, Crystal, I love you.” There were tears in his eyes and he could barely hear her whispered answer.

“I love you too, Spencer …” And the phone went dead in his hand, and she was gone. Forever.

He wrote to her once, just to tell her how sorry he was, and how much she had meant to him, as hard as it had been to put it into words, but the letter came back unopened, unanswered. He wasn’t sure if she had moved, but he didn’t really think so. She was just wise enough not to start something neither of them could finish. And she knew that now she had to put it behind her. It wasn’t easy. It was the hardest thing she had ever done, except leaving the ranch and the valley, but she forced herself to try and forget him. She didn’t even want to sing the songs
anymore that she had sung that night when he had come back to see her. Everything reminded her of him, every morning, every day, every night, every song, every sunset. Every waking moment was spent thinking of him. In years past, all she had had were her dreams, but now she had enough more to make it infinitely more painful. She knew the exact color of his eyes, the smell of his hair, the feel of his lips, the touch of his hands, the sound of his voice when he spoke in a whisper. And now all of it had to be forgotten. She had her whole life ahead of her, and no one to love, but she had her gifts from God, Mrs. Castagna reminded her frequently, and she had Pearl to remind her that Hollywood was still waiting. But now, without Spencer, none of it seemed quite so important.

And for Spencer, things settled down again eventually. He thought of Crystal a lot, but he was determined to make an honest commitment. He went to Palm Beach for Christmas with Elizabeth, and he began to find his footing again. He thought constantly about writing to Crystal, but he never did again. He knew Crystal wanted to be left alone, and he felt much too guilty. And Elizabeth overlooked all of it, like a social faux pas she was too gracious to mention.

They had a nice Christmas in spite of it and returned from Florida relaxed and tanned, and there were only six months left until the wedding.

Elizabeth usually kept him busy with parties in New York, and trips to Washington to visit her parents. He scarcely had time to think of anything that spring, but still more often than not, there were gnawing thoughts of Crystal and he did his best to fight them. There was no point driving himself crazy over her. He was doing the right thing, he told himself, almost daily.

Mrs. Barclay went to San Francisco in early May, to oversee the last details. They were to be married in Grace Cathedral, just as Elizabeth wanted, and the reception was going to be at the St. Francis Hotel. She had wanted it at home, but she also wanted to invite over seven hundred people, and they had no choice but to do it at a hotel. There were going to be fourteen ushers, and a dozen bridesmaids. It was the kind of wedding he had read about, but never even been to. And he flew out to San Francisco with Elizabeth in June, the day after she finished school. It was the end of her third year, and she was transferring to Columbia in the fall, so she could graduate after they were married. It was the only condition her father had set on them before he agreed to the marriage. He wanted Elizabeth to graduate, and he was only very sorry that she wouldn’t be graduating from Vassar. But all Elizabeth wanted was to be with her husband. They were in high spirits on the plane, and Spencer knew that there was going to be a constant round of parties when they got to California. The wedding was still a week away, on the seventeenth of June, and they were going to Hawaii for their honeymoon. She could hardly wait, and the week before she had announced airily that she was putting Spencer “on restriction” before the wedding. He was teasing her mercilessly about it on the plane, and telling her he could no longer be held responsible for his actions. But their opportunities were going to be more limited than before. Her father had taken a room for him at the Bohemian Club, as well as for all the ushers coming from out of town, among them George from Spencer’s office. He still remembered how sure George had been that he was doing the right thing and he believed it too. Until he set foot back in San Francisco.

He suddenly found himself thinking of Crystal night
and day. He was so close now, and he desperately wanted to see her. But drinking a great deal more than usual, and keeping his own counsel this time, he forced himself not to. It would have been a cruel thing to do to her anyway, and he plunged himself heart and soul into their wedding plans, and the elaborate parties being given for them daily.

There were parties in Atherton, Woodside, and several in San Francisco, and the Barclays gave a huge reception dinner for the wedding party at the Pacific Union Club the night before the wedding. Spencer had had his bachelor dinner the night before, and Ian had organized it for him. It included several strippers, and a flood of champagne, and Spencer had successfully resisted the urge to go to Harry’s on the way home and tell Crystal he still loved her. He tried to explain it to Ian incoherently, but then remembered he wasn’t supposed to.

“That’s right, son,” Ian had grinned, “we always drink champagne in crystal glasses.” They had put him to bed in his room at the club, and Spencer was greatly subdued the next day at the rehearsal dinner. They all were. And Elizabeth looked radiant in a pink satin evening gown. She had never been more beautiful than she was these days. Her mother had bought her some exquisite dresses in Washington and New York, and she was wearing her hair longer now in a French twist, which showed off the incredible diamond earrings her parents had given her for her wedding. They had given Spencer a Patek Philippe watch, and a platinum cigarette case embedded with sapphires and diamonds. His own gift to them was a gold box, engraved with a line from a poem he knew meant a great deal to Justice Barclay. And he gave Elizabeth a ruby necklace and matching earrings that were going to take him several years to pay for. But he knew how much she liked rubies, and she was used to only the best. And
as he smiled at her that night, at the Pacific Union Club, he knew she deserved it.

The wedding was at noon the next day, and the ushers left the Bohemian Club in a convoy of limousines. The bride was coming to the church in her late grandfather’s 1937 Rolls, which was still in perfect condition. The Barclays only used it on state occasions, and Elizabeth looked radiant as two maids and the butler settled her with the fourteen-foot train carefully draped inside the car, her father staring at her in mute admiration. She wore a crown of lace, encrusted with tiny pearls, and set into it, carefully designed, was her elegant little tiara. The thin French veiling cascaded around her like mist, and the high-necked lace gown showed off the slenderness of her figure. It was an incredible dress, an incredible day, an unforgettable moment, as the chauffeur drove them to Grace Cathedral and children on the street pointed at the bride. She looked beautiful, and her father had to fight back tears as they walked solemnly up the aisle to the strains of Lohengrin, and children’s voices sang like angels with the chorus.

Spencer watched her approach, and he could feel his heart pound. This was the moment they had waited for. It had finally come. It was done. And as she smiled at him through her veil, he knew he had done the right thing. She looked lovely. And in moments, she would be his wife. For always.

They walked back down the aisle, followed by the bridesmaids and ushers, smiling at their friends, and the reception line took forever. It was one o’clock before they left the church, and one-thirty when they arrived at the St. Francis. The newspapers were waiting for them there. It was the biggest wedding San Francisco had seen in years, and there were crowds of people in the street, watching as the limousines arrived. It was obvious that
she was somebody very important. They hurried into the hotel, and they danced and ate and drank all afternoon. And it occurred to Spencer more than once that it was a little like a political reception. People had arrived from Washington and New York. Several other Supreme Court justices were there, and all the most important Democrats in California. And they had gotten a telegram from President Truman himself.