Daddy (22 page)

Chapter 20

Oliver drove them home from the hospital to the dismal apartment in Port Chester, and no amount of pleading had induced them to come home to Purchase, He suspected that Sandra would have gladly given in to the idea, but Benjamin insisted they could manage on their own. He was going to take care of her, and the baby. He had taken two weeks off from work, and by then everything was going to be in control But whenever Oliver called them after that, the baby was screaming, and when he went to visit them the following week, Sandra looked dreadful. She was pale, with dark circles under her
eyes
and was in obvious pain. Benjamin looked as though he was beside himself, and the apartment was a disaster.

It was four days later when Oliver got a call
in
the middle of the night at the New York apartment. It was Benjamin. Sandra had been taken into the hospital, with an infection from the cesarean, and he was managing the baby by himself. He was in tears when he called, and Oliver went and picked him up, packed all the baby's things, and brought both of them home with him.

“Agnes can take care of Alex, and you can get some sleep for a change.” This time he wasn't going to argue with him. Benjamin had never looked worse. He seemed relieved to turn things over to someone else for once, and the next day, when he came back from the office, he sat Benjamin down for a long talk. The baby was screaming all the time, and Sandra was complaining. He couldn't find a second job, and they could hardly make ends meet. Suddenly it was all crashing in on him, and he was panicking. And no matter how cute the baby was, Oliver was sorry again that they had had him.

“Son, you have to think about this carefully. Is this really what you want to do with your life? Do you really feel you can keep the baby? And more importantly, what are you going to do about yourself? Do you want to work as a busboy for the rest of your life? And what about Sandra?”

These were all the questions that had been plaguing the boy for months, and now he was overwhelmed. He admitted to his father that he didn't love Sandra anymore, he wondered if he ever had, and if he had, it hadn't been for a long time. He couldn't bear the thought of spending the rest of his life with her. But what complicated matters now was that he loved the baby.

“He's my baby, Dad. I can't leave him. I couldn't do that to him, or to myself. But I just don't think I can stay with her for much longer … but if I leave her, then I have to leave Alex with her.” And he had serious questions about her ability to mother the child. She seemed to have none of the instincts that he had assumed she would have. And all she thought of, as before, was herself, and not the baby.

“Why don't you give her a chance to get on her feet again? Maybe what you need to think about is supporting her, but not staying with her yourself.” And just exactly how was he going to do that? Washing dishes? Pumping gas? “I'll do everything I can to help you. Why don't you just relax for a few days, and try to sort your thoughts out.” But when he did, he felt responsible again. Sandra came out of the hospital, and feeling sorry for her, he took the baby and went back. Aggie was heartbroken to see him take the baby, and Oliver was equally so to see Benjamin go back again to do what he thought was right. He just wouldn't let go of what he felt were his obligations, and it broke Oliver's heart to think of him there, with the baby and the girl. He insisted on giving him five thousand dollars, and Benjamin had fought him like a tiger to give it back.

“Think of it as a loan then. I'm not going to have you starving with three of you to support. Be sensible, for chrissake.” And finally, Benjamin relented, promising to pay it back to him as soon as he could manage.

And matters grew more complicated still only two weeks later. The head of Ollie's firm called him in and made a request that took him totally by surprise. The head of the Los Angeles office was dying of cancer. He was leaving within the week on permanent medical leave and someone had to take his place. More than that, they wanted to enlarge the office, and make it as important as the one in New York. They wanted “bicoastal equilibrium,” as they put it, to be close to the television industry that was so important to them, and acquire bigger, better clients on the West Coast. And the chairman of the board had decided that Oliver was their main man to run it.

“For God's sake … but I can't do that … I have two kids in school here, a house, a life … I can't just uproot them and move three thousand miles away.” And now there was Benjamin with his problems with his baby. He couldn't walk out on him, the way Sarah had done to all of them the year before. “I'll have to think this over.” But the salary they mentioned, the terms, and the participation made it a deal he would have been crazy to refuse, and he knew it.

“For chrissake, Oliver, come to your senses. Take it! No one will ever make you another offer like that, and one day you'll wind up chairman of the board.” Daphne tried to talk sense to him that night, as they sat in his office long after everyone else had gone home.

“But what about my kids? My house? My father?”

“Don't be ridiculous. Your father has a life of his own, and a wife who loves him. And Benjamin has his own life now too. He'll sort himself out sooner or later, whether you're here or not. He's that kind of kid. He's just like you. And Mel and Sam would love it out there. Look how good they were about moving to New York.”

“But Christ, Daph, that's different. That's thirty miles from Purchase. This is three thousand miles from home.”

“Not if you make a home for yourself out there. And Melissa is a junior. In two years she'll be away in college somewhere. Don't use them as an excuse. Go for it! It's a terrific offer.” But Los Angeles? California? This was his home.

“I don't know. I have to think this over. I have to talk it over with the kids and see what they say.”

They were both shocked when he told them, but not as horrified as he would have expected them to be. They even seemed to like the idea after they thought it over. They didn't like the idea of leaving their friends, and Sam was worried about how often he would see Sarah, but Ollie said he could send them back to visit her fairly frequently, and they could spend their vacations with her. But to Ollie, it was still a hell of a thought, and a frightening prospect. And what's more, they wanted him out there within a month, sooner if he could make it.

“Well, guys,” he asked them as they talked about it for days on end. He had until the end of the week to make his mind up. “What do you say? Do we go out to California, or stay here?”

Mel and Sam exchanged a long, careful look between them, and Ollie found himself hoping that they'd say no.

“I say we do it.” Mel astounded him, and Sam sat back and grinned.

“Yeah, Dad. Let's go. We can go to Disneyland every Sunday.”

He sat staring at them, still stunned by their decision. “Do you mean it?” They nodded, and feeling as if he were living in a dream, the next day he went to work and told them he would go. He flew to Los Angeles that Sunday, looked for a house to rent, spent three days looking at schools, another week getting to know the people at the office, and came back to wind things up in New York.

Faithful Aggie had agreed to go with them, and he had decided not to sell the house in Purchase, but to keep it until he knew everything was right for them on the West Coast. The hardest part of all was telling Benjamin they were going, but he made a deal with him that at least relieved his mind about his son. Benjamin and Sandra agreed to move into the house in Purchase with the baby. He told them they could take care of it for him/and it would be a load off his mind if they'd “help him.”

“You're sure, Dad? You're not just doing us a favor?”

“No, I'm not, Son. There's another alternative too.” He held his breath. “You could leave Sandra and Alex in an apartment here, and come to the West Coast with us.” But Benjamin only shook his head sadly. He wasn't leaving them. He couldn't. Sandra had no idea how to cope, and Alex was his baby.

“We'll be okay here.” He had found another job, and with free rent in his father's house, that would be one less expense for them.

It all happened like a whirlwind. They packed, they went. They cried, they waved. And the week before Thanksgiving they left for Los Angeles, to begin a whole new life in California.

As the plane set down at Los Angeles airport, Oliver looked at Mel and Sam and wondered what he'd done.

“Ready?” He grinned nervously at them, praying that they'd like the house he'd rented in Bel Air. It was an incredible place with a deck, a sauna, a Jacuzzi in every bath, and a swimming pool twice the size of the one in Purchase. It had belonged to an actor who'd gone broke, and was renting it until he decided to sell it.

They picked Andy up at the baggage claim in the big cage he'd traveled in, and Aggie straightened her hat, and smiled.

There was a limousine waiting for them at the airport, and the children got into it with wide eyes, as Andy barked and wagged his tail. Oliver wondered for the hundredth time if he'd done something totally crazy. But if he had, no one seemed to mind. Not yet, at least. He sat back against the seat and took both his children's hands tightly in his own.

“I hope you like the house, guys.”

“We will.” Sam smiled, as he looked out the window, and Mel looked suddenly very grown up, as they drove through the Los Angeles traffic to the new home their father had found them in Bel Air. It was a whole new world, a new life for them, but they didn't seem to mind it. And as he looked out the window, only Oliver was frightened by the prospect of what they were doing.

Chapter 21

The house was exactly what the children had drearned it would be. It was perfect for them, and Oliver was thrilled. In a matter of weeks, they had settled in, and all three of them were thriving. Even Agnes was in ecstasy over their new home, and after foraging around the local shops, she found everything she wanted.

Mel loved her school, and Sam invited two new friends to their pool to swim over Thanksgiving weekend. Only the holiday seemed a little strange for them, without Benjamin, or their grandfather, and they were a long way from Sarah too. They were going to spend the Christmas holidays with her. And it seemed amazing to them they had only been there a month, when they packed their things to leave to join her in Boston for their Christmas vacation.

Oliver drove them to the airport, and much as he knew he would miss them over the holidays, he was grateful to have a few weeks to work late at the office. He needed the time to dig into all the projects that had been waiting for him when he arrived. And the one person he really missed was Daphne. He missed her good eye, her bright mind, her clear judgment, and creative solutions to his office problems. More than once, he called her for advice, and express-mailed papers to her to see what she thought of his ideas for new campaigns, and presentations to new clients, He wished they had sent her to Los Angeles too, but he also knew she would never have gone. Her relationship with the man in New York was too important to her. She would rather have given up her job than the married man she had given up her life for thirteen years before.

The next few weeks flew by, and it was Christrhas almost before they knew it. The children decorated the Christmas tree before they left, and they exchanged gifts with their father, before flying off to spend Christmas with Sarah. And suddenly as he returned to the empty house the day they left, he realized that it was going to be his first Christmas alone, the first one without them, and without Sarah. It would be easier just forgetting about it, and plunging into work. He had more than enough to occupy him in the two weeks they'd be gone. And by the next afternoon, he was startled when one of his staff knocked hesitantly on the door of his office.

“Mr. Watson, Harry Branston thought you might like to see this.” The young woman put an invitation on his desk, and he glanced at it. But he was too busy to read it until several hours later. It was an invitation to a Christmas party one of the networks gave every year, for their stars, their staff, their friends, and major advertisers, and one of the biggest clients the agency had was that particular network. It seemed the politic thing to do to attend, but he didn't see how he could spare the time, and he wasn't really in the mood. He put it aside, and decided to see how his day went. It was four days hence, and the last thing on his mind that Friday afternoon, when he found the invitation in a stack of work on his desk, was to go to a party. He knew he wouldn't know anyone there, and he couldn't imagine that anyone would notice his absence. He put it aside again, and suddenly it was as though he could hear Daphne's voice urging him to go. It was exactly the kind of thing she would have told him to do, for the sake of the agency, and to establish himself as the new head of the L.A. office. “All right … all right …” he muttered, “I'll go.” And then he smiled to himself, thinking of her again and how much he missed their spaghetti dinners. That had been one of the hardest things about coming to L.A. He had no friends here. And surely no one like Daphne.

He called for the office limousine, which he seldom used, but on occasions like this it was helpful. The driver would know where it was, and he wouldn't have to worry about parking.

The party was being held on one of the huge studio sets, and as the limousine glided onto the lot, a guard checked a list for his name, and then waved them on. It was all still a little bit like a dream to him, or playing a part
in
an unfamiliar movie.

Two young women showed him the way, and the next thing he knew, he was
in
the midst of hundreds of people, festively dressed and drinking champagne, on a set that looked like a huge hotel lobby. There was a gigantic Christmas tree towering over them, and network executives were greeting everyone. He felt silly being there at first, like a new kid in school, but no one seemed to notice. He introduced himself several times, and was secretly impressed when he saw faces he knew, they were stars of successful shows, decked out in sequins and sparkles. The women were beautiful, and the men were handsome, too, and he was suddenly sorry that Mel wasn't there. She would have been awestruck by it all, and she would have loved it. He even saw the star of Sam's favorite show, a freckled-faced boy whose wisecracks Sam always repeated ad infinitum.

He turned away then to make room for
someone
coming through and inadvertently stepped on someone else's toes. He jumped aside with an apology on his lips, and turned to find the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen standing just behind him. Her face was flawless, her eyes were green, and her hair was the color of burnished copper. “I … I'm sorry … I didn't see …”He realized that he'd seen her before but he wasn't sure where. And when she looked at him, she smiled, exposing perfect teeth, but for all her incredible looks, she was perfectly at ease in a pair of red leather slacks and a simple black sweater. And she had the smile of a little girl, and not a movie star. She was surprisingly small, and everything about her seemed tiny and perfect. “I'm awfully sorry,” he said again, having landed full on her foot, but she just laughed as she watched the crowd milling around them.

“Crazy, isn't it? I come every year and I always wonder why. It just looks like they call central casting and say, Okay, Joe, send up a bunch of bodies for a party.' Then they stick a glass of champagne in their hands and tell everyone to have a good time.” She laughed again as she watched them, and then her eyes met Oliver's full on. This was a new breed to him, the perfect face, the beautifully groomed red hair, everyone in Los Angeles looked so “done up” to him, so studied in the way they dressed and made up. They made a lifetime of how they looked, and yet somehow he sensed that this girl was different.

“I know I shouldn't ask you this, I should probably know, but do you work here?”

“You could say that. You don't, though, do you?” If he had, he would have known who she was, but it didn't bother her that he didn't. In some ways, it was a lot nicer for her this way.

“I work for an ad agency.” He didn't want to tell her he ran it. “I just moved out from New York a few weeks ago. It's a lot different here, but I like it a lot.”

“Wait a while. It gets pretty crazy out here. I've been here for ten years, and I still feel like Alice in Wonderland.” It was a sensation he was beginning to know well, and he suddenly wondered what she would look like without the carefully groomed hair and expertly applied makeup.

“Where were you from before that?”

“Nebraska.” She laughed, “Would you believe? I came out here to go to UCLA and become a 'star.' And my folks still think I'm crazy for staying out here. Sometimes, so do I, but you get hooked on the action after a while. I love being in this business.” She looked excited as she spoke, and he liked the look in her eyes. She was alive and full of fun, and she didn't seem to be taking any of it seriously. And then, as they were speaking, someone came up to her and asked for an autograph. She signed it without making a big fuss, smiled, thanked them, and turned back to Ollie. He was looking frankly embarrassed by then, and realized that he should have known who she was.

“All right. Tomorrow I'm going to be mortified. I'm going to find out who you are and feel like a complete jerk. Why don't you tell me now so I can feel like an ignorant fool and get it over with?” He was smiling too. “Who are you?”

“Little Red Riding Hood,” she teased. “To tell you the truth, I was enjoying the fact that you didn't know me. I hate to spoil that.”

“I promise I'll forget as soon as you tell me.”

“Good.” She held out a hand to him in formal greeting. “In that case, I'm Charlotte Sampson.” She was the star of one of the network's major shows, a dramatic prime-time show that ran weekly. She had a male co-star and an audience of some eighty million viewers.

“Oh my God …” He did feel like a real fool, and Mel was going to die when she heard he had met her. “I can't believe it.”

“Now that we've gotten that over with, who are
you?”
He had shaken her hand and forgotten to tell her his name. He couldn't believe that he hadn't recognized her, but he had never realized that she was that small, and that young and vivacious and pretty. She was very serious on the show, and she usually wore her hair in a different style, but he was staring at her again, and he felt like a real hick as he introduced himself to her at last.

“I'm sorry. You really took me by surprise. I'm Oliver Watson. This is all very Hollywood for us folks from back East. I'm afraid I'm not used to running into stars every day, let alone trampling their feet.”

“Not to worry. Last time he was here my dad walked right up to Joan Collins on the set and told her she looked just like a Sunday school teacher he knew back in Nebraska. It was the first time I've ever seen her speechless. He just patted her on the back, and kept on going.”

“Maybe I should try that. But you don't look like a Sunday school teacher to me.” More like the girl next door. But an exceptionally beautiful one. She was really lovely, and her flame-red hair intrigued him. He could tell from the color of her creamy skin that she was a natural redhead.

“You don't look like an ad man to me. You look like one of the guys on our show.” She laughed, and he could see that she did that often. She was an easygoing girl, with none of the mannerisms or affectations of someone as important and successful as she was.

“I'm afraid I don't think so.”

“What brought you out here, by the way?” There were people she knew milling everywhere, waving at her, blowing kisses, making signs, but she seemed perfectly content to continue talking to Ollie.

“The agency did. Someone got sick, and they brought me in to fill in for him. It was kind of short notice, but it's worked out really well.” And then suddenly, he felt very guilty. “Miss Sampson, should I be keeping you? I imagine there are a lot more important people you should be talking to than the network's ad man.”

“I've already paid my dues. I came early, drank a glass of champagne, and kissed the head of the network. What more do they want? A little tap dance? I gave at the office. I'm on my time now. And I like talking to you. It's a lot easier than talking to a lot of nervous stars whose shows are slipping in the ratings.” But hers wasn't, that was for sure. She had been nominated for the Emmy that year, even though she hadn't won it. Which made him feel even more a fool for not knowing who she was when he first saw her. “What have you been doing in Los Angeles, Oliver, since you got here?”

“Work … work some more … more work … settle in … to tell you the truth, I haven't seen anything except my house and my office.”

“That doesn't sound like much fun. Have you been to dinner anywhere?”

“Not yet, except once with my kids. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe, which they loved. I felt four hundred years old, and as though I was losing my hearing.”

She laughed, she liked it, but it made her feel that way too, only because it was difficult to talk there. But the decor was fabulous, and she was particularly fond of looking at Elvis Presley's old car seeming to plunge through the roof. It brought out the kid in her every time she saw it. “Have you been to Spago yet?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“We'll have to go sometime.” It sounded like the L.A. version of “let's have lunch sometime,” and he didn't take her seriously when she said it. And then, looking interested, “How old are your kids?”

“I have a daughter who's sixteen, a son who's ten, and another son who stayed back East who's eighteen.”

“That sounds nice,” she smiled at him, with a faint look of regret. She really liked him. “How old's your wife?” She looked straight into his eyes, and he laughed at the directness of what she'd asked him.

“Forty-two, actually, and we're divorced.” Or as good as. The papers would be final in eight weeks, and in his heart, where it mattered, the bond had been severed at last. And Charlotte Sampson grinned broadly at him when he answered.

“My, that is good news! I was beginning to worry!” He was flattered by her words, and the attention she was lavishing on him. He really felt he didn't deserve it. Maybe she was just shy, and didn't like big parties. “Are your kids here now?”

“No, they just went East a few days ago, to spend Christmas with their mother in Boston.”

“I thought you said you lived in New York.” She looked suddenly puzzled, “And why aren't they with you for Christmas?”

“Because they live with me all year round. And we did live in New York. But she lives in Boston. She left a year ago to go back to school, and …” He looked at her, Hollywood or not, he was going to tell her the truth, even though he wasn't even sure she cared, but she acted as though she did, and she seemed like a nice person. “She left us … me and the kids … so they live with me now.”

She looked at him, soberly suddenly, brushing the long red hair off her shoulders. “That sounds like a long, painful story.”

“It was. For a while. It's a short story now. She's happy. We're fine. You adjust to things if you have to.”

“The kids too?”

He nodded. “They're doing fine. By now, I think they can weather anything. They're a good group.”

“And you sound like a good father.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” He took a brief bow and they both laughed and one of the network heads came up to greet them both. He kissed Charlotte on both cheeks, and shook Oliver's hand, and told him he'd been keeping an eye out for him for the past hour.

“I want to introduce you to some of our friends, but I see you've already met my favorite lady.”

“I attempted to trample her as I came through the door, and she was kind enough not to have me thrown out, or sue. She's probably too lame now to move, so we've been standing here chatting, while I bore her with tales of my children.”