Authors: Danielle Steel
“You’ve been in some very fine movies.”
“Thank you.” She smiled gently at him, there was so much she wanted to say and she knew she couldn’t.
He laughed again, “I saw you win the Academy Award, I almost cried. You looked beautiful, Crystal … you still do … nothing ever changes, you just get better and better.”
“And older.” She laughed. “I can remember when I thought thirty was practically dead.” He laughed too. She was still so young and so incredibly lovely. It made him feel a hundred years old and so damn lonely.
They talked for a while and then he looked at his watch. He hated to go, but he knew he had to leave her. He had to be at the White House for dinner at seven o’clock, and he still had to pick Elizabeth up at the house, and change into his dinner jacket before the command performance that night.
“Can I drop you off?” he asked.
“I don’t think you should.” She was still worried and he smiled at her.
“I think you worry too much. I’m not the President, you know. I’m only an aide. Contrary to what my wife thinks, I’m really not all that important.” She slipped into the limousine with him and they drove to the hotel. He didn’t ask why she had never married, and she didn’t ask why he had never had children. They talked about
the ball the night before, and then suddenly the car stopped, and he looked at her dismally and held her hands tightly in his own. “I don’t want to leave you again. The last six years without you have been awful.” It was what he had wanted to say to her when he called, why he had begged her to see him. He at least wanted her to know that he still loved her.
“Spencer, don’t … it’s too late for us. You’ve carved out a wonderful spot for yourself. Don’t spoil it.”
“Don’t be foolish. All this could be gone in four years, we won’t be. Haven’t you learned that yet? Doesn’t it mean anything to you that we still feel like this after fifteen years? How long do you want to wait, till I’m ninety?”
She laughed at him, and closing his eyes at the sound of it, he bent toward her and kissed her. She felt breathless kissing him, and when he stopped, her eyes were filled with tears. There was nothing she could say to him. For his own sake, she couldn’t give in to him, but she wanted to desperately. And he wasn’t making things easy for her.
“If I come to California, will you see me?”
“I … no … Brian … don’t …”
He asked her bluntly what he had hesitated to before. “Are you living with Ford?”
She shook her head. They had both avoided that, for their own reasons. “No … I live by myself….” He smiled happily as he kissed her again, and the driver stood discreetly out in the cold, waiting for them to finish talking.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Spencer! …”
He silenced her with a last kiss, and then smiled at her again. “I love you … I always will … and if you still think you can change that, forget it.” They had come
too far, resisted it too often, tried too hard, lost and won and lost again. There was no way out of it now. She knew, just as he did, that they belonged together. But stolen moments could cost him everything he’d built and she didn’t want that.
She looked at him for a long moment, worried about him and not herself. “Is this really what you want?”
“Yes … no matter how little it is, Crystal … it’s something.”
“I love you so much.” She whispered it into his neck and then they opened the door and stepped out. She shook his hand, thanked him for the ride, and disappeared into the hotel, still feeling his lips warm on hers, and wondering what would happen.
She and Brian flew back to California the next day, and they were both quiet, as he read and she sat staring out the window. He didn’t want to say anything to her yet, but he knew. He had called her all afternoon at the hotel, and when he saw her the night before, he read the whole story in her eyes, and all he wanted was to wish her well and tell her to be careful. They finally talked it over during lunch on the plane, and he sighed as he looked at the star he’d made, but she deserved all the good things that had happened to her. There hadn’t been enough good things in her early life, and he prayed for her that there wouldn’t be further scandal. This could be a big one for both her and Spencer.
“I want you to know you can always call on me. I will always be your friend,” Brian said and Crystal cried as he talked. They had gone to Washington as lovers and friends, and now it was all over. But he had always known the day would come. He had just hoped it would come later rather than sooner. They had had two years of
being involved with each other, and he knew he couldn’t ask for more than that. He didn’t really want more. He had never wanted to marry her. The trouble was, neither did Spencer, he couldn’t. He pointed it out to Crystal too, but none of it was news to her. She sighed and blew her nose. It had been a difficult two days in spite of the splendor of the inauguration.
“I know all that, Brian. This has been going on between us for fifteen years.” He looked startled.
“Before the boy then?”
“Long before. I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen years old.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you marry him, or didn’t he ask you?”
“He did, but never at the right time. It’s been a comedy of errors all my life. We found each other again after he got engaged. Then after he got married, he discovered he didn’t love her. He went to Korea, and I got mixed up with Ernie, and when he came back, I thought I owed too much to Ernie to leave him then. Isn’t that a joke? And then Ernie wouldn’t let me go when I wanted to, and Elizabeth wouldn’t give him a divorce, and on and on for years, like two crazy people who just can’t get away from each other. He asked me to marry him again after the trial, but by then he had political aspirations and a terrific job waiting for him, and a woman accused of murder one is not exactly what anyone needs to win an election. So I ended it, for his sake.”
He looked at her with fresh admiration, and guessed the rest. “And then you found out you were pregnant, and you never told him.”
She nodded. He had figured it out perfectly.
“Not exactly an easy life. And now?”
“I don’t know.” She and Brian had agreed to end their affair, but that still didn’t settle anything with Spencer. It
just meant she was free again, but he certainly wasn’t, between his wife and his job as a Kennedy aide, he was anything but, and she knew it. “He wants to come out when he can. And then what?”
“I’ll tell you what. You’ll be fifty years old one day, still in love with a man married to someone else, and waiting for him to show up twice a year. And what if he runs for president one day? Then what? It’ll be all over, and how old will you be then? I think you should find some nice young guy to marry you and have more kids, before it’s too late.” But he wasn’t volunteering either, and they both knew he didn’t want marriage or more children. He had never wavered on that score, and he had had a vasectomy the year before, which made things easier for Crystal.
But the issue now was Spencer and what would happen next. As her friend, Brian didn’t approve, and he thought that she was being foolish. If Spencer couldn’t marry her now, she should drop him. But it was easier said than done, and when he turned up in Los Angeles six weeks later, their hours together were filled with all the love and passion they had shared since the beginning. They stayed in her apartment the whole time, and never went out, and two days later he left, leaving a gaping hole in her life, as she waited for him to come back again. But it was another three months before he could get away. It was no way to live, but it was all they had, stolen moments, hidden days, locked away in her apartment, with their secret. As it was, there was constant gossip and guesswork about who she was going out with. And after a year of seeing Spencer on the sly, she finally started an alleged “affair” with a star she had worked with often, who was gay and equally anxious to keep his secret safe. She also saw Brian from time to time and he always scolded her after asking if she was still seeing Spencer.
Zeb was seven by then and he desperately wanted to come to Hollywood to see her. She relented finally and let him come with the Websters, who were as awed by it as he was. They all went to Disneyland and had a great time. And she promised him he could come back soon, but he was happy to
go
back to the ranch with the Websters and Jane, whom he frequently referred to as his sister. She was fourteen and as delicately lovely as her mother. Crystal had given them a tour of some of the studios, and she wondered why she hadn’t let them come sooner. No one seemed to suspect anything, and Zeb looked nothing like Crystal.
By the summer of 1963, she and Spencer had been seeing each other quietly again for two years, and she was resigned to her fate now. She didn’t try to talk him out of it anymore. She knew she couldn’t have let him go again. She couldn’t live without him, and there seemed to be no need to. No one suspected anything, and Elizabeth didn’t care what he did. She was too busy seeing friends, serving on committees, practicing law in her spare time, and giving parties. There was no room in her life for a husband.
And in November, Crystal was working on a film night and day, it was another one of Brian’s and a good one. He swore she’d get another Oscar for it, and she was sitting on the set, chatting with the other actors when they heard the news. The President had been shot in Dallas. Her heart thundered in her chest as she ran to an office where someone had a television set to watch the news. At first they thought several of the aides had been shot too, and she watched in horror as they reran the film of his body thrown back in the car, his head on his wife’s lap, and then the facade of the hospital where he had been taken. At eleven thirty-five, a.m., California time, the announcer said in a choked voice that the President was dead. His body would be flown to Washington for a
state funeral. And they showed his wife’s ravaged face, but nothing had been said about Spencer. Crystal’s face was white as people began crying around her. And she didn’t know whom to call. In desperation, she called Brian’s office. He had just heard the news too, and he was crying when she called him.
“I have to know if Spencer is hurt,” she said in a choked voice. “Do you know who to call?”
There was a long silence as he thought of what it meant to her. That added to the rest would be one grief too many. “I’ll see what I can do, I’ll call you right back.” But it was hours before he could get through to any of the people he knew at the White House, and she spent all day in a daze, waiting to hear from him. It was nine o’clock that night when he finally called her. Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in by then, and Jack Kennedy was back in Washington as a nation cried, and his wife had stood in her bloodstained suit as they carried him away in his coffin.
When Crystal heard Brian’s voice, she began to cry, fearing the news, but he was able to reassure her.
“He’s all right, Crystal. He’s back in Washington. At the White House.” She heard the words as though in a dream and as she put down the phone she lay down and sobbed, for Jack and for Jackie, and for the days of Camelot, gone forever, but also with relief for Spencer, who hadn’t been injured.
The funeral was a symphony of pain, with the coffin drawn by a horse-drawn caisson as the two little children stood crying and a little boy saluted his father for the last time. The nation came to a halt as they mourned him. His murderer was shot and the whole world went into shock. It was a time that no one would ever forget, and there was no way Crystal could talk to Spencer. There was no way of knowing how he was, or what was happening to him, and she had no idea if he would stay on to work with Lyndon Johnson. And Brian gave his actors two weeks off. No one had the heart to go back to work. They all needed time to heal, and in deference to the President he had loved, the office was closed in formal mourning.
Crystal flew back to the ranch, and sat there with Boyd and Hiroko watching the news night and day. Even Zeb cried when he saw the funeral on TV, and he and Jane held hands, as they stared at the bereft Kennedy children.