LovePlay Page 7

  He put his arms around her and held her gently. “I care a lot more than you want me to,” he said softly. “Don’t get upset. It’s not good for the baby.”

  “Yes, I know.” She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Really I will.”

  “How cozy,” came a harsh voice from the door.

  They both turned to see Cul standing there, glaring. “You’re being called. Let’s get on stage, shall we? If you can tear yourselves away from each other long enough. It’s curtain time.”

  “Shall we, darling?” she asked David, deliberately adding to Cul’s already vivid picture.

  “By all means.” He took her arm and escorted her out the door.

  She walked onto the stage at her cue with a presence she hadn’t felt since she’d played Elizabeth the First. Her regal carriage, her confidence, radiated like fox fire. By the time she’d finished her monologue in the opening act, there was the silence of the tomb in the theater. But as the curtain went down on act 1, the applause burst like a bomb.

  David hugged her ecstatically. “My God, what a performance!” he burst out backstage. “You’re going to get the Tony for this!”

  “Some performance.” She laughed halfheartedly. “I’m a pregnant lady playing a pregnant lady. That isn’t even acting.”

  “What you’re doing out there is,” he corrected, his dark eyes sympathetic. “I’m so proud of you, Bett.”

  She beamed. “Thanks. The show must go on, and all that,” she added, although her heart was breaking into pieces inside.

  “Doing okay?” Dick called, rubbing his bald head.

  “Fine!” she called back, and he nodded and turned away.

  She glared up at David. “Does he…?”

  He grimaced. “Well, I was afraid he might push too hard, and that you’d let him. I know it wasn’t my place, but dammit, somebody’s got to look after you. Cul won’t, damn him!”

  She could have seconded that, but it made her feel odd, to have Dick know. Inevitably he’d let it slip, and then everybody would know. But she couldn’t quit the play now. She needed the money too much.

  “David, you’re sweet, but…”

  “Yes, I know.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  He rushed off as she let the dresser put her quickly into a different, more definite maternity dress.

  It was a long evening, and she tired more easily than she’d expected to. But the thought of Edward McCullough sitting out there in harsh judgment of her was enough to keep her on her feet even though she felt like lying down on the stage. She’d show him. His opinion of her didn’t matter one bit! If he could believe she’d betray him with another man, he didn’t have an ounce of trust in her. And that meant that he couldn’t love her. Love was trusting, right down to the death.

  She felt as if she’d been utterly used. But the baby was the one thing about their relationship that she couldn’t regret. Even the prospect of raising it alone didn’t bother her; she knew she’d manage. Cul was too frozen up to love anyone, but the baby would let her love it. She felt tears welling in her eyes. Why wouldn’t Cul believe her? Why couldn’t he let himself believe in miracles? Obviously he wasn’t sterile, or how could she be pregnant? But perhaps he’d tortured himself with the thought for too long to let go of it. Like a bad habit, he couldn’t break it.

  Maybe someday he’d come to his senses, she thought. But by then, it would be too late. And there was the black possibility that he’d always believe the baby was David’s, even if it grew up blond and green-eyed. By and large, people believed what suited them. And being a father obviously didn’t suit Cul, because he couldn’t face the possibility that she was telling the truth.

  When the final curtain went down, she was utterly exhausted and ready to drop. But she walked out to thunderous applause and was pelted with long-stemmed red and yellow and white roses, and bouquets of them were carried onstage. Tears ran down her cheeks as the opening performance ended triumphantly. Her career was made. The money would come. Her financial worries were over. But her personal ones were just beginning.

  Backstage in her dressing room, she took off her makeup and dressed in slacks and a pullover blouse before people managed to break in and start congratulating her. She took it all with breathless enthusiasm, feeling unexpectedly buoyed up and adored.

  It wasn’t until Cul showed up with a devastating blonde in tow that the bubble broke. And David wasn’t around to catch her this time.

  “You were just wonderful, dear,” the blonde said from her exquisite mask, clinging to Cul’s arm. “I wanted to be an actress, you know, but mother wouldn’t hear of it,” she added on a carefully sad sigh. “I did enjoy your interpretation of the role. Cul said you were a good actress, but I have to be shown. Of course, I was. I truly was.”

  “Thank you,” Bett said politely, wondering what the blonde would say if she told her about the baby and who its father was.

  “Now we really must go,” the blonde told Cul, “if we’re going to make it to Nassau tonight. Cul’s spending a few weeks with us while he works on that Hollywood thing, aren’t you, darling? Not that I expect him to do much work around me,” she added suggestively.

  “Keep the quality up, Bett,” Cul said with careless praise. “You were extremely good tonight.’

  “Don’t bother your head about me, darling,” Bett said with sarcastic emphasis, “I’m a survivor.”

  He glared at her. “Yes, I found that out, didn’t I?”

  She only smiled. “I’ll see that you get an invitation to the wedding,” she said, lying deliberately because he was killing her and she wanted to hurt him just as badly.

  But there was no reaction at all. He lifted his eyebrows. “Do that. I might be able to make it. Ready, Tammy?”

  The blonde started to say something, but he pushed her gently out the door. “Not now, darling,” he murmured on a laugh. “So long, Bett.”

  And just that quickly he was gone. She sat down. Cherrie. Tammy. So that was what Cul’s women usually looked like. Exquisite and wealthy and cultured. Everything that Bett wasn’t. She felt the tears come with a sense of desolate finality.

  She grabbed her coat and ducked through the well-wishers, rushing until she reached the stage door. She thought she heard David call to her, but she ignored him. Her mind had been crushed by Cul’s behavior, by his deliberate mocking of her condition, and by the fact that he’d brought that woman with him.

  She wasn’t even aware of where she was going. She didn’t know or care that it was dark and cold, and she found herself heading for the river.

  She walked for a long time, keeping her pace brisk, oblivious to the danger. She felt her feet go numb with every step, and in her mind Cul’s voice kept repeating, “I’m sterile…. I’m sterile…. The baby isn’t mine….”

  Around her, the sound of traffic sounded unreal. Her eyes noticed the lights without really seeing them. She’d found the river, and she was so numb with pain and hopelessness that she didn’t even think about the baby she was carrying. She stared down at the black water, wondering if there was any peace to be found there.

  In a moment of insanity, she started to jump.

  “Bett! No!”

  The wrenched agony in that voice stopped her. She blinked, turning, to see David running toward her furiously.

  “David?” she mouthed.

  He had her. He dragged her into his thin arms and held her, trembling with reaction.

  “You fool,” he choked breathlessly. “You silly little fool!”

  Tears ran down her cheeks as she let the emotion overflow and felt, for the first time, the impact of Cul’s rejection.

  “He doesn’t think it’s his baby,” she whispered brokenly. “He brought that blond aristocrat to flaunt at me, and he said…he said…I was a tramp!”

  “And you know it isn’t true,” he told her, holding her closer. “You crazy little girl, didn’t you think about the baby? My God, if I hadn�
��t been worried to death and come after you, I shudder to think what might have happened!”

  She cried helplessly, clinging to him. “I can’t bear it,” she whispered. “It was bad six years ago when he walked away, but it’s killing me now! It’s killing me, David. I love him, I love him so!”

  He drew in a ragged breath and bent his head over her. “Here, this is no place to stand around after dark. Come on, we’ll take a cab home.”

  “Can you afford a cab?” she managed, wiping at her eyes with the handkerchief he pressed into her hands.

  “No, of course not,” he assured her. “But we’re taking one all the same. At the end of the week, we get paid. I’ll just eat hot dogs until then.”

  “I can fix you something to eat,” she offered gently.

  “Real food? No cardboard?”

  She managed a smile and clung to his arm. “No cardboard. How about some eggs and bacon?”

  “Sounds great! Lead the way.”

  She was silent back to the apartment. She cooked in a daze, wondering at the numbness inside her, horrified at the moment’s insanity that had threatened her life and the baby’s. Her hand went slowly to her stomach.

  “You’re all right,” David said as he watched her. “So is the baby.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t seem real at all, what I thought of doing. I’m not a suicidal person, you know, I’m very strong.” She glanced at him with tortured eyes.

  “We’re none of us superhuman, and you’d had a nasty knock,” he reminded her. “Add to that the excitement and tension of opening night. It’s no wonder you went a little mad. Under the circumstances, it’s even understandable.”

  “If it hadn’t been for you, I might have jumped,” she said softly.

  “Maybe you’d have come to your senses in time,” he offered consolingly.

  “I don’t know.” She turned off the flame under the eggs and slid them onto a platter with the bacon and toast. “I’ve never had that happen before. I didn’t even realize what I was doing.”

  “You need a little rest,” he told her. “Before long, it will be Monday. I’ll take you to the park.”

  “No!” she burst out, her face white.

  “I’ll take you to a movie,” he said quickly. “That new sci-fi thriller. Okay?”

  She sat down, catching her breath. “That might be nice. I like science fiction.”

  “So do I. See, already we have common interests. Why not marry me while we look for more?”

  He was teasing, but she sensed a willingness under it, and she was tempted to say yes, to lay her burdens on his thin shoulders and let him take care of her. But it wasn’t fair. She couldn’t give him what he wanted from her, and it was no use pretending. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him.

  “We’d both starve to death, then,” she replied lightly, smiling at him. “I can’t eat cardboard.”

  “I could cut out magazine ads,” he offered, brightening.

  “The baby wouldn’t like it.”

  “You’ll have to be a firm parent and tell him to cool it,” he returned.

  She laughed. It was as if the baby was already a person. “I’ll call him Buick,” she threatened.

  He blinked. “Buick?”

  “Well, I’ve always wanted one….”

  He burst out laughing. “Shame on you!”

  “Okay, I guess it wouldn’t be quite fair.” She thought for a minute. “How about Jason? Isn’t that a nice name? I’ll call him Jason Clarke.”

  “What if she’s a girl?” he asked.

  “I’ll call her Jackie,” she returned. “But she won’t be a girl.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  Her eyes clouded. “Cul was an only child, but his mother had two brothers, and his father was one of six boys. Yes, I’m…reasonably sure.”

  He sipped his coffee. “Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “At home, when I was twelve. Mama said girls should know how to cook.” She leaned back, losing herself in memories of her childhood, in the peace of the years before she’d met Cul. All too soon, it was bedtime and David was saying good-night.

  “I’ll sleep on the couch, if you like,” he offered, frowning at the door.

  “I’ll be all right,” she assured him. “I’m quite through trying to leap off bridges. Cul would probably celebrate, not grieve, so the only person I’d hurt would be the baby. I won’t do that again.”

  “Good girl. Sometimes a good night’s sleep makes all the difference. I’ve seen it keep one of my friends from jumping off a building. Much harder than water,” he added with studied lightness.

  “As you say. Thanks for being my friend, David,” she said gently, and reached up to kiss his lean cheek.

  “My pleasure.” He touched her face softly. “Good night, Elzabeth the First. I like your spunk.”

  “I almost lost it, didn’t I? But never again. I’ll have this baby,” she told him, smiling with determination. “And I’ll never let Edward McCullough so much as touch it, or me. Revenge is sweet, don’t they say, and someday he’ll want me. But he won’t have me.”

  He nodded. “I know you’re pretty cut up right now, Bett,” he said gently. “But it will pass. Just hold on to that, if you can, and get through it.”

  “Is that how you do it?”

  He nodded. “You always think of Christmas, don’t you?” He laughed self-consciously. “So we’ll hold on until Christmas. Everything will be fine.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Get some sleep. I’ll come by for you in the morning.”

  “David,” she began worriedly.

  “Hush. I’ve got a lot of love to give somebody, why not you and the baby?” he asked quietly. “I won’t ask a thing of you.”

  “It’s not fair,” she whispered.

  “Life never has been,” he agreed. “But people who never risk, never gain. Not in any big way. If Cul ever comes back, I’ll step aside. But if he doesn’t…”

  “He won’t,” she said, turning away. “But I can’t give you what I can’t feel, and I don’t want to hurt you, David. I’ve been hurt enough to know how it feels.”

  “I’d rather be hurt by you than kissed by anyone else,” he said curtly. “Now get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He turned and walked away. She watched him as far as the elevator and then slowly closed and locked the door.

  Five

  Janet came over to cook breakfast for her the next morning, her arms full of papers.

  “David said you’d been ailing,” she said cheerfully, “so I came to play mama. Your reviews are fantastic. You’ve made it, honey.”

  “Have I ever,” Bett sighed. She sat up, turned white, and dashed for the bathroom, barely making it in time.

  When she came back out, Janet was staring at her over a platter of scrambled eggs, her face concerned.

  “Yes, I can see you’ve been ailing,” Janet said softly. “Poor darling. Poor, poor darling. Does he know?”

  She nodded miserably.

  “Well, is he going to marry you?”

  She shook her head.

  Janet made a rough sound in her throat. She slammed down the platter of eggs. “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t think it’s his.”

  “Oh, baloney.” Janet sat down beside her on the bed, pulling the tear-washed face onto her shoulder. “Why doesn’t he?”

  “You can’t ever tell anyone.”

  “Dearest friend, when have I ever told anyone anything?”

  Bett smiled wanly. “He says he’s sterile.”

  “Cul?”

  “Cul.” She sighed wearily. “Janet, he thinks I’ve been sleeping with someone else. He’s positive it isn’t his, he won’t even discuss the possibility. I don’t know who told him he couldn’t father a child, but, boy, have I got a shock for whoever did!”

  “Yes, obviously. What are you going to do?”

  “Have it.”

 
“I figured that. I mean, how are you going to manage?”

  “The play’s a hit, and I’m making money, real money. I can pay my taxes.” She sighed. “I’ll stay on here and when the time comes, I’ll check myself into a hospital and have the baby. Then I’ll worry about diapers and baby-sitters and such.” She smiled. “Janet, I’ve wanted all my life to be pregnant. I loved him, you know.” Her voice broke. “If I can’t have him, at least I can have the baby. And I’ll love him, and take care of him, and give him all the adoration I can’t give to his father. I’ll make out just fine. I’ll have more than most people ever manage.”

  Janet studied her quietly. “Yes, I guess so. But it’s such a mess.”

  “David offered to marry me.”

  “Great. You can starve together,” Janet chuckled. “He’s a nice man.”

  “Yes. But I don’t love him.” She brushed the hair away from her face. “He can be the baby’s uncle.”

  “Can I be his aunt? We’ll have a christening and everything.”

  “That sounds super.” She pulled herself up and went to the window. “It’s starting to look like spring. And by Christmas, I’ll have a really special present, won’t I?”

  She turned, and the radiance on her face made Janet smile. “A special present,” she agreed. “Now, how about some scrambled eggs?” she asked, rising. “You need lots of good food now, to keep you both healthy.”

  “Sounds terrific. I’ll just get the ketchup.”

  Janet gritted her teeth and spooned the eggs onto plates.

  * * *

  As the days went by, Bett hardly had time to feel sorry for herself. The role took up most of her time. The play was performed Tuesday through Saturday evenings with matinees on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. Monday was her only day off, and she usually spent it with David and Janet.

  The two of them astonished her. Neither was a mother-hen type, but they seemed determined to protect her from life at large. It had stopped being her baby and became everybody’s baby. Inevitably the day came when the rest of the cast realized what was wrong with Bett. That was when the trouble started.

  An enterprising reporter for one of the local papers managed to get the information without asking Bett. He published it. The entertainment page carried the blatant headline: “Fantasy Becomes Reality—Pregnant Woman Plays Lead in McCullough’s Girl in a Dark Room.”