The Wedding (41 page)

They're slandering me. How can they say that? She was sobbing and Allegra didn't know what to say, but suing the tabloids would only make it worse. They were the vermin of the earth, but they had good lawyers who told them how to protect themselves and they never failed to. Why do they do this to me? she wailed, and Allegra felt helpless. There was nothing she could do to change it.

To sell papers. You know that. Throw it away and forget it.

What if my grandmother sees this?

She'll understand. Nobody believes that garbage.

She does. Carmen laughed through her tears. She thinks eighty-seven-year-old women give birth to quintuplets.

Well, tell her they're a bunch of liars. I'm sorry, Carmen. I really am, Allegra said, and she meant it. She could just imagine how it felt dealing with the lies all the time. It was so painful.

The local paper had the story of Malachi O'Donovan's arrest that day too. It was a high-profile day for some of her clients.

You'd better warn Alan before someone else tells him, Allegra suggested. They even read some of that garbage in Europe. But as soon as she hung up, Alan was on the phone from Switzerland. His press agent had called and read it to him.

I want to sue the bastards, he raged. The poor kid almost bled to death in the ambulance, and she hasn't stopped crying in six weeks, and they're claiming she had an abortion. I want to kill them. Has she seen it yet?

We just hung up, Allegra said, feeling as tired as she looked. She'd had four hours sleep the night before, and a very long morning. She wants to sue them too. I'll tell you what I told her. It's not worth it. You'll just sell their paper for them. Fuck em. It was rare for her to say that, but in the case of the tabloids, they deserved it. Just forget about them, don't waste your money on lawyers.

Some are worth more than others, he said, calming down a little bit. Allegra was always so sensible. That was why he called her. How are you, by the way?

God knows. It's been pretty wild here. And I'm flying to New York in two hours, to meet my future mother-in-law in Southampton.

Good luck. Tell her what a lucky old broad she is to have you. Allegra laughed at the image.

When will you be home, by the way?

Not till August. But it's going great, he said, and then he sounded worried again. How's Carmen? She still sounds terrible a lot of the time. I keep telling her there will be more, but she doesn't believe me.

I know. I tell her the same thing. She's hanging in. I think the movie is keeping her busy at least. But she misses you something awful. It took all of Allegra's powers of persuasion to keep her from running off to Switzerland, and the tabloid story certainly wasn't going to help, but Allegra was sorry she wasn't going to be there over the weekend to talk sense into her and distract her.

I miss her too, Alan said sadly.

How's the picture going? Allegra asked with interest.

Great. They're letting me do a lot of my own stunt work.

Don't tell your wife, or she'll be there on the next plane.

They both laughed and he said he'd see her in two months when he got back, but she knew she'd talk to him long before that. As soon as they hung up, Jeff walked into her office.

Ready to go? he asked, looking as though he was in a hurry. But she was all set. And this time, nothing would stop her.

All set. She stood up and he caught a glimpse of the paper on her desk, and the headline.

That's pretty, he said, glancing over it and shaking his head. There was nothing those people wouldn't stoop to. They had interviewed two nurses, who had probably been paid a pretty penny to sell Carmen's secrets and distort them. Have they seen it yet?

I just spoke to both of them. They wanted to sue and I told them not to. It just sells papers.

Poor things. I sure would hate to live like that.

There are other compensations, Allegra said knowingly, but she wondered if they were enough. It was a high price to pay for glory.

They both left their cars in her office garage and took a cab to the airport, and Jeff couldn't believe that this time nothing had happened to stop them. Neither of them had an emergency, a problem, a meeting. They didn't have to cancel again; his mother wouldn't be furious with him.

They actually managed to get on the plane on schedule, and take their seats without a problem. It was amazing.

Jeff looked at her with a grin, as the plane took to the air with the resounding sound of the jets just above them. I can't believe it. Can you? They had agreed to fly first class, and they sat back in their seats with a victorious look, as they held hands and ordered champagne and orange juice. We did it! he said, and kissed her. My mother will be so pleased. Allegra was just happy to be with him, and to be going away with him. They still hadn't decided where to go for their honeymoon. They were taking three weeks, and they were talking about Europe. Italy in the fall was glorious, particularly Venice. And after that Paris, and maybe London, to see friends. But Jeff also liked the idea of a beach somewhere, like maybe the Bahamas, or Bora Bora like Carmen and Alan. But Allegra didn't want anything that remote. It was a lively conversation for close to an hour, and a real luxury to even be thinking about it. And then they talked about the wedding. He was thinking about Alan as his best man, and her brother and Tony Jacobson, and the director of his movie, as ushers. And Allegra was having the same problem. She wanted Sam as her maid of honor, and Carmen as a bridesmaid, and she felt as though she should have had more friends stand up for her than that. She had always thought about having her college roommate from Yale, Nancy Towers, if she ever got married, but she hadn't seen her in five years, and Nancy lived in London.

Maybe she'd come, Jeff said conversationally, at least ask her.

And there was another old friend of Allegra's from school, Jessica Farnsworth, who had moved East years before. They never saw each other anymore, but as kids they had been like sisters. She decided to ask both of them after talking to Jeff, and they completed the wedding party. They were going to invite the Weissmans of course, and a lot of people they liked and worked with. Allegra thought Jeff should invite some of his friends from the East, but he doubted that they would come. They were either too poor or working too hard, but he agreed to invite them.

It was an easy flight, and eventually, they both read. He was still jotting down notes on the script, and she had brought an assortment of papers with her in a briefcase. She had brought a new novel too, and Jeff approved of the selection. But before she read the first page, she was fast asleep, with her head on Jeff's shoulder, and he looked down at her tenderly and covered her with a blanket.

I love you, he whispered as he kissed her.

Me too, she whispered back, and then drifted off to sleep again until they landed. He had to shake her awake, she was so dead to the world, and she didn't remember where she was at first. She had been completely out, after her exhausting night getting Malachi out of jail, and then dashing to the office.

You work too hard, Jeff informed her, as they disembarked and walked to the carousel to claim their luggage. He had arranged for a limousine to meet them at the airport and take them to Southampton. He wanted the trip to be as pleasant as possible for Allegra so it would be one of the first happy memories they shared of their marriage. There was champagne in an ice bucket waiting in the limousine for them, and it was one of those absurd stretch models that go on forever.

I didn't know they had those in the East. She laughed when she saw it. I thought the only people who hired those were rock stars. In spite of his normally unassuming ways, she always teased Bram Morrison because he loved them, the longer the better. He'd even had one with a double bed in it once. That had been quite something.

Drug dealers rent them here, Jeff explained with a grin, and then commented that they had met in the East five months before, and now here they were, back again, and soon to be married. Their wedding was only two and a half months away. They could hardly believe it.

The ride to Southampton took two hours from Kennedy, and it was a hot June night, but the car was air-conditioned and they were comfortable. Jeff took his jacket off and his tie, and he rolled up the sleeves of his well-starched blue shirt. He always looked immaculate and perfectly pressed and put together, even after a plane ride. The only time he didn't look like that was in his famous sweatshirts and blue jeans in Malibu, but even then he looked intentionally casual, and she teased him because his jeans were always perfectly pressed. It was one of his few obsessions.

I look a total mess compared to you. Allegra looked nervous as she brushed her hair and tied it back again. But the navy linen suit had suffered badly on the airplane, particularly while she slept on his shoulder. I should have taken off the skirt, she commented with a grin.

That would have been a hit, he said, and poured her a glass of champagne and then kissed her.

That's perfect. I'm going to get drunk before I meet your mother. That'll make a big impression on her.

Stop worrying. She's going to love you, he said confidently, beaming at his future bride, as she flashed the much-beloved engagement ring at him. And they kissed long and hard as the car made a right turn off the expressway.

It was another half hour to the house, and it was nearly midnight when they rounded the last bend in the road, and she saw a stately old house, with a porch all around it. Even in the dark, she could see antique wicker furniture set in little groups, and there were lovely trees that shaded the house in the daytime. There was a white picket fence that surrounded the property, and the driver drove them right up to the door and then helped them with their bags. Because of the late hour, they all attempted to be quiet. Jeff suspected his mother wouldn't have waited up for them. With the time difference, it was impossible to have gotten there any earlier and still have been able to put in a half day at the office.

He knew where the key was hidden. He paid the driver and gave him a handsome tip, and then let Allegra and himself into the house carefully. There was a note from his mother in the front hall, on a handsome antique English table. The note welcomed them both, and told Jeff he had his own room, and asked that Allegra take the large guest room on the ocean. The message was clear and Jeff smiled at her apologetically.

I hope you don't mind, he whispered. My mother is very proper. We can leave your bags in there, and you can sleep with me. Or I can sleep with you, as long as we make it back to our own rooms by morning. She was amused by the proprieties, but perfectly willing to follow the directions.

Just like college, she grinned, and he pretended to look shocked.

Is that what you did in college? I had no idea, he said, carrying her bags up the stairs, as she tiptoed behind him. It was kind of fun, being in his house, whispering and trying to find their bedrooms. It was suddenly like an adventure, and she giggled as he walked her past his mother's bedroom. It was a huge, airy room with blue-and-white chintz and a four-poster with heavy curtains. But they couldn't see it that night, the door was firmly closed. In fact, it surprised Allegra that his mother hadn't waited up for them, after they'd come all this way to see her. It was only midnight, and her own mother certainly would have. But she knew Jeff's mother was much older. She was seventy-one, and according to Jeff she always went to bed early.

Jeff led her to the guest room his mother had described, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and she could hear the waves lapping against the sand. And on a table next to the bed there was a pitcher of ice water, and a plate of small, thin buttery cookies. Jeff offered her one and she took it, and was surprised at how delicious it was. It melted in her mouth and she loved it.

Does your mom make these? she asked, impressed, and he laughed and shook his head.

The cook does.

The room where they were standing was upholstered in a flowery pink fabric, and there were lace curtains on the window, and it had a big white wrought-iron bed, and hooked rugs on the floor. It looked very New England.

Where's your room? Allegra whispered, eating another cookie. She was suddenly starving.

Down the hall, he pointed, still whispering so his mother didn't hear them. She was a light sleeper. And it reminded him of the summers of his youth, when he'd sneak friends into his house at night and they'd sneak a beer or two. His father was always willing to let them get away with it, and his mother always called him on it the next morning.

Jeff led Allegra down the hall to his own room. There was a dark green bedspread and matching curtains, and a narrow bed with a handsome antique headboard. And on the dressers and desk were mostly pictures of his father. There were several maritime paintings that his father had collected over the years. It was a totally masculine room, and in some ways reminiscent of the Malibu house in that it had a feel of New England and of the ocean, but this was far more austere than the house where she stayed with him. And in spite of the pretty fabrics, and antique furniture, there was something cold about it, like the photographs she'd seen of his mother in the New York apartment.

He went back to her room after he'd left his bags in his own, and he gently closed her door and put a finger to his lips. He had closed his own bedroom door before leaving it, and he didn't want his mother to hear them talking at this end of the house. Allegra understood that. They walked on tiptoe, and never spoke above a whisper, and she looked out the window and wished they could go out on the beach. It looked so pretty in the moonlight.