they didn't just want George's autograph, they wanted Val's too. The movie was a huge hit, and posters of Val were plastered all over town. Everyone knew her now. And Faye smiled as she sat back in the hospital room, and watched the two girls chat. Val was laughing about something Anne had said, and she was telling her what having the baby was like, as Bill and George stared wondrously at little Max.
Bill drove them proudly home the next day, and they settled Max in his nursery. He seemed happy and content, and he nursed a lot, and Bill took a few days off just to be with them. “You know,” she looked at Bill happily a few days after they got home, “I'd do it again.” He stared at her and groaned. He wasn't sure he would. He was still impressed by the hideous pain she'd been in, even for such a brief time. It hadn't seemed all that brief to him, and it wasn't something he'd want to put her through again.
“Are you serious?” He looked shocked.
“I am.” She looked down at the baby, cozily tucked in at her breast, and she smiled up at Bill. “I would, you know.” He realized it was the price of having a twenty-year-old wife, and he leaned over and kissed first Anne, and then Max.
“You're the boss.”
She laughed and her eyes looked different now. It wasn't what she had thought. The pain of the past was not completely gone, and she knew now that it never would be. But there was someone else now, someone else she could love. She would never know where that other baby was, what he was like, who he would be when he grew up, unless he sought her out. He was gone forever from her life, irretrievably lost, but she could move on now. The pain was finally dim, and no longer acute. She had Max now … and Bill … and even if they never had another child, she thought to herself … she was glad to have them. They were enough.
CHAPTER 44
The night of the Academy Awards, Anne turned to Bill with a worried look, asking him if she looked fat. She was wearing a pale blue and gold dress, with sapphires and diamonds on her hands and ears and throat, and he thought she had never looked more beautiful. She didn't look quite as gaunt as she once had, and she had lost that beaten look. She looked peaceful and content, and everything about her glowed.
“You look better than any movie star.” He helped her on with a white mink wrap, and they hurried out to the car. They didn't want to be late. They had promised to meet Faye and Ward at their place and give them a ride. Valerie was going separately, with George, and Lionel had said he would meet them there. And once united at the Music Center, where the awards were held, they were definitely a striking group, the men in black tie, the women in jewel-colored gowns, all of them looking faintly alike, not in their dress, but their allure. Valerie was wearing a dazzling emerald-green dress, her hair done high on her head, and emeralds she had borrowed from Anne sparkling in her ears. And Faye looked resplendent in a shimmering gray gown from Norell. They were quite a group. And in New York, Vanessa was curled up in jeans, watching it on television with Jason, wishing she was there.
“You just can't imagine how exciting it is, Jase.” Her eyes lit up as she saw people she knew, and again and again as the camera swept Val's face. And this year he felt it too. He had never really cared about the Academy Awards before, and before Vanessa came into his life, he had never even bothered to watch. But now, they were prepared to sit there all night. They sat through the boring ones, the special effects, the humanitarian awards, the sound effects, the screenplays, the songs.
Clint Eastwood was host for that portion, Charlton Heston having been delayed by a flat tire. The award to the best director went to a friend of Faye's this year, and although George was nominated, he didn't win, and neither did their film. But then Faye was introduced to give the next award. “The Best Actress,” she said, qualifying it, reeling off the names of those who had been nominated by the Academy. And as Van and