Changes (39 page)

“Mark?” Jessica turned in her bed as he was about to leave the room. His departing noises had awoken her. “What's wrong?” She sat up and glanced from him to her sister.

“I just came to see how Val was.” Val was already sleeping and he didn't approach from the doorway.

“Is something wrong?” She must have been totally out of it, Mark decided if she didn't remember how sick Val had been all day with the
tourista.

“She got sick from something she ate.”

“I mean, more than that.”

“No, she's okay.” But he was shaking when he got back to his own room. Jessie sensed something, and he knew what they said about twins, that they were practically psychic about each other. All he needed was for her to say something to his dad or their mother and all hell would break loose. He wanted to take care of it himself. He had to. There was no other way.

CHAPTER 27

They left for L.A. the morning of New Year's Eve with Val still weak, but well enough to go home. And they got back to the house at four in the afternoon, tired and suntanned and happy with their trip. Peter had finally consented to come out of seclusion for the last day, and a good time was had by all. Even Mel. Although it hadn't been much of a honeymoon for her, to say the least. He apologized to her on the flight home, and she told him she understood. At least she had gotten some rest before she started work at the network in L.A. She had to report at noon the next day, on New Year's Day, and at six o'clock that night she would begin coanchoring with Paul Stevens. He had been at the station for years, and although he had some devoted fans, his ratings were starting to slip, and they were bringing Mel in to pull him up again. The network felt that together they should make an unbeatable team. He was tall, gray-haired, and blue-eyed, with a resonant deep voice, and a style which appealed to the ladies, the surveys showed. Mel had a strong female draw too, and the surveys all showed that men loved her as well. With the two of them coanchoring on the air, the network knew that they had a prize show, and even if Stevens slipped further, Mel could carry him. But it was the first time that Paul Stevens had ever coanchored, and he was less than thrilled, and for Mel it was a step down too, as she had been sole anchor now for years. It was going to be a humbling experience for both, she knew, and a lesson in diplomacy, working with him.

Peter and Mel decided to stay home on New Year's Eve, and drink champagne by the fire, and Mark took Val and Jessie out to a couple of parties he'd been invited to. Mel was pleased that he had included Jessie as well, although she didn't look too thrilled to go and Val wasn't in top form yet. Mel suggested that they not stay out too late, and warned them to be careful driving, and then she went upstairs to check on Pam, who had a friend sleeping over. Matt was asleep in his bed with a noisemaker beside him. He wanted someone to wake him up a midnight so he could blow his horn, but Mel correctly assumed that there would be no one awake in the house by midnight to wake him up. She was half tempted to wait up for Mark and the twins but she and Peter were exhausted. And as he sat in bed reading some of his medical journals, Mel wandered around the house, trying to make herself feel as though it were her home now too, but it just didn't feel like it yet. And then she remembered, as she saw the photographs of Anne in the silver frames. She began gathering them up one by one, there was a grand total of twenty-three, and she put them all in a drawer in Peter's study, and as she crossed the living room with the last batch in her arms, she saw Pam standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some pictures away.” There was a strange exchange of looks and Mel saw that Pam was rigid as she stood there.

“Of who?”

“Your mother.” Mel's voice didn't waver.

“Put them back!” Her voice was almost a snarl, and Mel saw that the friend who was sleeping overnight was standing just behind her.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, put them back. This is my mother's house, not yours.” If Mel didn't know her better she would have said she was drunk. But she wasn't. She was just extremely angry and upset, so much so that she was shaking where she stood.

“I think we can discuss this some other time, Pam. When we're alone.” Mel was determined not to lose her cool, but she found that she was shaking too.

“Give me those!” And then suddenly, Pam lunged at her, but Mel saw her coming and dropped the pictures into a chair and grabbed Pam's arms before she could do any damage. She held her fast and spoke to her in a stern voice.

“Go to your room. Right now!” It was nothing different than she would have said to the twins. But Pam ignored her and frantically picked up all the framed photographs Mel had dropped into a chair. And she stood glaring at Mel with her arms full.

“I hate you!”

“You're welcome to all the photographs you like. I put the rest in your father's study.”

Pam ignored her. “This is our house,
ours,
and my mother's, and don't you forget it!” Mel's palm itched to slap her, but it seemed unwise in the presence of her friend. Instead, she took a firm grip on Pam's shoulder and propelled her to the door.

“Go upstairs to your room right now, Pam. Or I'm going to call your friend's mother and ask her to pick her up. Is that clear?” Pam said not a word, she trundled upstairs with the photographs of her mother, and her embarrassed friend Joan trailing behind her, as Mel stayed long enough to turn off the lights downstairs and then went up to her bedroom, where Peter was still happily reading his journals. Mel stood staring at him for a long moment, aware that at least some of what Pam had said was true. It was their house. Mel hadn't even been allowed to put her furniture in it. And it still had Anne's mark on it everywhere.

Still trembling from her encounter with Pam, Mel stared at Peter as he looked up.” I want that portrait taken down tomorrow.”

“What portrait?” He looked at her as though she were crazy, and she almost looked it.

“The one of your late wife.” She spoke through clenched teeth and he was totally baffled. Maybe the champagne had gone to her head.

“Why?”

“Because this is my house now too, not hers. And I want it taken down. Immediately!” She was almost shouting at him.

“It's by a very famous artist.” He started to stiffen too. Her attitude seemed totally uncalled for and he knew nothing of the exchange with Pam.

“I don't give a shit who it's by. Get rid of it. Throw it out. Burn it. Give it away. Do whatever the hell you want with it, but get it out of my living room!” She was suddenly on the verge of tears as he stared at her in disbelief.

“What in hell is wrong with you, Mel?”

“What's wrong with me? What's
wrong
with me? You move me into a house where not so much as a hat pin is mine, where everything belongs to you and your children and you've got photographs of your first wife all over the house, and I'm supposed to feel at home?”

He was beginning to understand, or so he thought, but she still sounded irrational. And why now? “Then put the photographs away if you want to. But you didn't object to them before.”

“I didn't live here before. But I do now.”

“Apparently.” He was getting annoyed.” I suppose you don't find the decor adequate for you?” There was suddenly a nasty tone in his voice.

“It's perfectly adequate, if you don't mind living in Versailles. Personally, I'd rather live in a house, a home, something a little warmer and on a slightly more human scale.”

“Like that dollhouse you had in New York, I suppose?”

“Precisely.” They stood across the room from each other as each one steamed.

“Fine. Then put the photographs away if you want. But the portrait stays.” He said it just to annoy her, because he didn't like the way she'd broached the subject at all, and Mel's mouth almost fell open.

“The hell it does.” And then, “It goes or I do.”

“Doesn't that sound ridiculous to you? You're behaving like a complete horse's ass, or weren't you aware of that?”

“And you're behaving like a total prick. You expect all the adjustments to be mine, and you don't change a thing, not even the photographs of your wife.”

“Then have some photographs taken of yourself and we'll put those around too.” He was being nasty now and he knew it, but he was tired of hearing her bitch about Anne's pictures. He had thought of putting them away once or twice himself, but the thought depressed him and he didn't want to upset the children. And he reminded her of that now.” I don't suppose you've thought of what reaction you'd get if you threw that portrait out.”

“Oh, yes, I already know that.” She advanced on him with a vicious look.” I was just putting the photographs in question in your study, and your daughter informed me that this is your house and not mine, or more exactly, her mother's.”

And suddenly Peter understood it all. He sat down with drooping shoulders and looked up at Mel. He could just imagine the scene with Pam, and that explained Mel's behavior to him. It hadn't made any sense before. He didn't think she was given to rages. “Did she say that, Mel?” His voice was kinder now, and his eyes were too.

“She did.” Mel's eyes filled with tears and she still did not approach her husband.

“I'm sorry.” He beckoned to her but she didn't approach and she was crying openly now. He went to her and put his arms around her. “I'm so sorry, love. You know this is your home too.” He held her and she began to sob. “I'll take the portrait down tomorrow, it was stupid of me.”

“No, no, it's not that … it's just …”

“I know …”

“It's so hard to get used to living in someone else's house. I'm so used to having my own.” He sat her down beside him on the bed.

“I know … but this is your home now too.”

She looked up at him and sniffed. “No, it's not. Everything is yours and Anne's … I don't even have any of my own things around.” Peter looked pensive as he listened to her.

“Everything I have is yours, Mel.” But she wanted her own, not his.

“Just give me time. I'll get used to it all. I'm just tired, and there's been so much going on, and Pam upset me with what she said just now.” Peter kissed his wife and stood up.

“I'll go up and talk her.”

“No ! Let me handle that. If you intervene, she'll just resent me more.”

“She loves you. I know she does.” But there was worry in his eyes.

“But it's different now. I was just a guest before, and now I'm an intruder in her house.”

Peter looked even more upset at that. Was that how she felt?

“You're not an intruder. You're my wife. I hope you remember that.”

She smiled through her tears.” I do! There's just a lot going on at once, and tomorrow I start my new job.”

“I know.” He understood, but it made him sad to see her cry, and he vowed to himself to take Anne's portrait down the next day. She was right. “Why don't we both go to bed early tonight? We're both tired and it's been a rough week.” Mel didn't disagree. Moving from New York, their wedding, honeymoon, Marie's death … They brushed their teeth and went to bed and he held her close to him in the dark, feeling her warm flesh next to him. This was what he had longed for in the past six months … more than that, the last two years … and even before that, it had never been like that with Anne. She had been so much more distant than Mel. Mel seemed almost like a part of him, and for the first time in a week he felt something deep inside him stir, and as he held her close, he wanted her as never before. And when the old year became the new, he was making love to her.

CHAPTER 28

As per her new contract, negotiated while she was still in New York, the limo arrived for Mel in the early afternoon, and drove her to the station where she would work. And as she walked inside, she was aware of a hundred stares. There was incredible curiosity about her. Mel Adams was starting work. She was introduced to the producers, assistant producers and directors and cameramen and editors and grips, and suddenly despite the new surroundings, Mel felt as though she were in a familiar world. It was no different from New York or Chicago or Buffalo before that. A studio was a studio, and as she looked around the office she was assigned, she suddenly sighed and sat down. In a way, it felt like coming home. She spent the entire afternoon familiarizing herself with the people who came and went, the features and interviews recently done. She had a glass of wine with the producer and his crew, and at five thirty Paul Stevens arrived. The producer introduced them at once, and Mel smiled as they shook hands.