Authors: Danielle Steel
He's so beautiful ' oh, he's so beautiful ' And even Hiroko saw that he was the image of Spencer. Crystal smiled at the doctor victoriously after he had cut the cord and Hiroko had cleaned her up and wrapped the baby in a clean white blanket. I told you I could do it myself.
He smiled in answer. You had me worried for a while. That little man of yours must weigh a good ten pounds. They weighed him on the kitchen scale, and he was right. Spencer's son weighed ten pounds and seven ounces. The doctor handed him back to his mother and she smiled at him again. He was a gift straight from the hand of God, and that was exactly what she called him. Zebediah. Gift of God. It was a strong name for a strong child, born of the love she had carried for so long for his father.
The doctor stayed for a little while as she and the baby slept peacefully. It had been a day of hard work for all of them, and most of all for Crystal. He left the room quietly, and found Hiroko sitting alone in the living room. She offered him a cup of steaming tea, and hesitating for a moment, he took it. It was difficult for him to speak to her even now, but she had earned his respect that day, and in an odd way he was sorry it hadn't come sooner.
You were a great help to me, Mrs. Webster, he said carefully, and she smiled. She was wise beyond her years. Life hadn't been easy for her, but it had brought her rich blessings, thanks to her husband and Crystal.
Thank you. She smiled shyly at him, and when he left he solemnly shook her hand. It wasn't an apology, it was too late for that. But it was a first step toward acceptance.
He told his nurse about it the next morning when he went back to his office. It had taken them ten years, but they had finally forgiven her for being Japanese, and come to understand that Hiroko Webster was a good woman. She noticed people looking at her differently after that, and one day when she went to the store with Jane, the woman at the cash register smiled and said hello, after ten years of serving her in silence.
Crystal's baby grew healthy and strong. She was back on her feet remarkably quickly, and when he was a month old, they christened him in the church where her sister had gotten married. He was Zebediah Tad Wyatt, and his godparents were Boyd and Hiroko Webster, and after the service Crystal let little Jane hold him. She struggled with the weight of the sleeping child, and they all laughed, and then she looked up at them with a worried frown, speaking to Crystal and asking a question that brought tears to her eyes.
Who's going to be his daddy?
Crystal fought back the tears as she looked down at her, holding the baby that was Spencer's. I guess he just has me. Maybe that means we'll all have to love him a little more. And she wondered if one day Zeb would ask her the same question.
Can I be his aunt?
Sure you can. The tears slid down Crystal's cheeks as she kissed them both. Aunt Jane. He's going to love you so much when he's a little bigger. The child looked pleased as she handed Zebediah Wyatt back to his mother.
Four days after Thanksgiving, on November 26, 1956, Zebediah celebrated his first birthday. Ingrid Bergman had made Anastasia that year after recovering from just the kind of scandal Crystal was so grateful she had avoided. She was certainly not as well known as the Swedish actress was, but after the murder trial the year before, she would have been the source of fresh scandal, and she was desperately glad she wasn't.
Crystal made Zeb's cake herself, and he chortled happily as he plunged both hands into it, and Jane helped clean him up. She was eight and she adored the child. He was her very favorite playmate.
Hiroko was slowly being accepted now, in tacit ways, by people who had shunned her for a decade. But Jane was still paying the price for her parents' courage, and most of the children she went to school with teased her and called her a half-breed. It made her shy and afraid of them, and wise beyond her years. And with Hiroko's gentle teaching, she was acquiring the gifts of forgiveness and patience. She carried Zeb every where' she went on the ranch, and she was an enormous help to Crystal, who was busy overseeing everything, and sometimes she even worked in the fields herself. The ranch was doing well and she had sold off a small piece of land to pay for more improvements. But she also knew by then that it was never going to eke out more than a pittance for her. The best she could do was make the ranch support itself, and pay for minimal necessities for herself and Zeb. It was never going to make them rich, or give them even small luxuries, and for months now she'd been worried.
She saw the Websters struggling day by day and she gave them free rent, but like the ranch, the gas station barely broke even. And now she had Zeb to think about. She knew that soon she would have to get a job and put some money away for his future. She knew she wouldn't sell the ranch. She still remembered her father's words, telling her not to sell the ranch, and she wouldn't have no matter what. It was her home, and Zeb's, and now the Websters'.
She didn't say anything about her concerns when Spencer called. He still did from time to time, but fearing he'd hear the baby in the background, she was short with him. And he called less and less often. It only tortured him to hear her voice, and she had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want to see him. She was terrified he'd see Zeb, if he came back, and it was a secret she guarded with her life now. She knew that Spencer was doing well, and she read about him once in Time, and on occasion even in the local papers.
And by the spring of 1957, the country was enjoying economic prosperity, which seemed to have little to do with the realities of Crystal's life and Crystal knew that she had to do something soon. It had been a hard winter for them, and there was no hiding from it anymore. She had to get a job to earn more money.
Zeb was eighteen months old and running everywhere after Jane. He could hardly wait for her to come home from school every day. And on a May afternoon, she and Hiroko were following them down the dirt road that ran through the vineyards. She had made the decision the night before, after months of thinking about it. It was the only thing she knew, and after two years the scandal had died down. She knew she had to go back to Hollywood and try it. Hiroko looked at her with unhappy eyes when she told her. She had always wondered if Crystal would go back. And in an odd way it didn't surprise her. But they would be heartbroken to see her go, she might even sell the ranch out from under them. But Crystal was quick to reassure them, and what she said next overwhelmed Hiroko.
I want to leave Zeb here with you. She was watching him follow Jane, as the older child giggled, and Zeb laughed the belly laugh that touched his mother's heart. Every moment, every day, he was a constant reminder of his father.
You will go to Los Angeles without him? Hiroko couldn't believe it.
I have to. Look what happened to Ingrid Bergman. It could be years before they let me back on a picture. They might not anyway. But it's worth a try. It's the only thing I know how to do. And she knew she'd been good at it. She had seen one of her films the year before, and had been intrigued to see herself on the screen. And now at twenty-five, there was a maturity to her looks that seemed to have enhanced her beauty although she didn't know it. She'd be twenty-six that year, and she had a child to think about. But the time to go was now, before she got any older and they forgot her completely. She had lost touch with everyone there, purposely, and now she'd have to start again. But this time she would do it with the hard work, and no easy introductions through a man like Ernie. She would never take favors from anyone again. She had learned that lesson. That night Hiroko told her husband and he was as startled as she had been to hear that Crystal was leaving.
She's leaving Zeb with us? Hiroko nodded and Boyd was touched. It was the ultimate sign of how much she trusted them. They knew how desperately Crystal loved her son, and in June, Crystal cried constantly for a week before she left him. It was like tearing her heart from her soul, but she knew she had to do it, for his sake. It was better now than ten years later, and by then it would be too late for her. By Hollywood standards, she wasn't getting any younger.
What if he forgets me? she cried softly to her friend, as Hiroko watched her agonize about leaving him. She wondered if she would be able to do it.
But on a clear day in June, she kissed him for a last time, and stood for a long time on the porch in the morning sun, looking out over her land, feeling the same tug at her heart she always felt when she looked at the earth left to her by her father. She held Zebediah close to her, and smelled the sweetness of his flesh, and then with a strangled sob, she handed him to Hiroko.
Take good care of him' . He cried and stretched out his arms. He had never been away from her for a single hour since his birth. And now she was leaving him. She had promised to come back as soon as she could, but her finances wouldn't allow her to come back often.
Boyd drove her into town, and watched her get on the bus. She wheeled and hugged him again, her eyes filled with tears as he held her. Take care of my baby. '
He'll be all right. Just take care of yourself. He couldn't help but think of the disasters that had befallen her before, but this time she was older and smarter.
She stopped in San Francisco for a day to buy clothes, and she was careful with her purchases. She had to be cautious with the little money she had, and this time she knew exactly what she needed. She bought dresses that showed off her figure without being vulgar, and realized how thin she had gotten working on the ranch. In jeans, she never thought of it, but now she could see how much weight she'd lost, but it only made her legs look longer, her waist smaller, and her bust fuller. She bought hats that accented her face, and high-heeled shoes she could hardly walk in. And she stopped to see Harry and Pearl, and she had dinner with them. She sang for them at the restaurant one night, just to see how it would feel, for old times' sake, and she was surprised she could still do it. But being there again reminded her of the night Spencer had found her there after his engagement. Everything everywhere always reminded her of him. She only hoped that L.A. wouldn't remind her of Ernie.
She arrived in Hollywood the next day, and felt like a forgotten face. No one seemed to notice her as she checked into a cheap hotel. She was just another pretty girl coming to Tinsel Town to be discovered.
She waited one day, to get her bearings, and she called home twice. Zeb was fine, he was eating well, and he had gone back to the big house looking for her, but Jane had followed him and brought him back, and Hiroko insisted that he seemed happy. And on the following morning, with trembling hands, she dialed one of the agents she had met years before. It had been five years since she'd first come to L.A. with Pearl, but this time she knew what she was doing. He gave her an appointment and she went to see him that afternoon, but he was blunt with her.
I couldn't give you away, if you want to know the truth.
Why? Her eyes were wide and sad, but she was still breathtaking as he looked at her. It was a damn shame, but it was the truth. He couldn't use her.
You killed a guy. This is a funny town. Everyone would do anything they could to anyone, and they've got the ethics of a dog in heat. But when it comes to the morals clause in their contracts, the studios want virgins. They want everyone to stay clean, act nice. You can't be queer, or crazy, or act horny. You get knocked up, you shack up with someone's wife, you kill someone God forbid, and it's all over. Take my advice, sweetheart, go back to where you been for the last two years and forget it.
It was as simple as he said, and she thought of taking his advice. But she had enough money to stay for at least two months, and she wasn't ready to give up yet. She saw three more agents the next week, and they told her the same thing, although in slightly subtler terms. But the message was the same. Her Hollywood career was over. They admitted that her last two movies had been good, and her voice was great, and all of the directors she'd worked with had liked her, but in spite of all of that, the studios wouldn't touch her.
Two weeks after she'd arrived, it was a blisteringly sunny day and she sat wilting in a restaurant drinking lemonade and she saw one of the men she had starred with. He stared at her from afar at first, and then he walked slowly toward her.
Crystal, is that you? She nodded and took off her hat, and smiled. He'd been a kind man despite his fame, and he'd been nice to work with.
Yes. At least I think so. How've you been, Lou?
I've been okay. Where the hell have you been all this time?
Gone. They both knew why, but he didn't mention the trial or Ernie's murder.
What are you doing here? Are you working on a picture? He hadn't heard that she was back in town, he hadn't seen it in the trades, and they'd never been close, but he liked her. He'd always thought it was too bad that things went wrong for her. She'd been a pro, and he'd always thought she'd make it big one day. But so had Ernie.
She laughed and shook her head. No, I'm not working. There was a look of resignation in her eyes when she answered him. No one will touch me.
The guys play rough here. He had had his own problems over rumors that he was gay. And he had had to marry his lover's sister. Now everything was fine again. No one was willing to accept the truth in Hollywood. You had to play by their rules or forget it. Who's your agent?
Same story.
Shit. He sat down in an empty chair, wishing he could help her, and then he had a thought. Have you gone to any of the directors directly? Sometimes that works. If they want you, they twist the right arms, and presto magic, the phone rings and you're working.
She shook her head again. I think in my case, it may not be quite that simple.
Look ' where are you staying? She told him and he jotted it down on a napkin. Don't do anything. Don't move. I'll call you. He felt so damn sorry for her as he walked away, he knew how touchy it was, but she didn't expect him to help and she didn't expect him to call her.