Danielle Steel - Honor Thyself

The others came back that evening after their dinner. They were in good spirits, and Stevie had brought her a sample of everything that had been on their plates, and identified all of it to her. Carole tasted it with interest, said she didn't like the turkey, but thought the marshmallows were very good.

“You hate marshmallows, Mom,” Chloe informed her with a stunned look. “You always say they're garbage and you wouldn't let us eat them when we were kids.”

“That's too bad. I like them,” she said with a shy smile, and then held her hand out to her youngest child. “I'm sorry I don't know anything right now. I'll try to remember.” Chloe nodded as tears filled her eyes.

“That's okay, Mom. We'll fill you in. Most of it isn't important.”

“Yes, it is,” Carole said gently. “I want to know everything. What you like, what you don't, what we like to do together, what we did when you were a little girl.”

“You were away a lot,” Chloe said softly, as her father shot her a warning look. It was way too early to talk about that.

“Why was I away a lot?” Carole looked blank again.

“You worked very hard,” Chloe said simply, as Anthony held his breath too. He had heard it for years, and those conversations between his mother and sister never ended well. He hoped it wouldn't happen now too. He didn't want Chloe upsetting their mother at this point. She was far too fragile still, and it would be too unfair to accuse her of things she didn't know. Carole had no way to defend herself.

“Doing what? What did I do?” Carole glanced at Stevie as she asked, as though the young woman could fill her in. She had already sensed the bond between them, even if she knew no details, and remembered neither her face nor name.

“You're an actress,” Stevie explained to her. No one had said that to her yet. “A very important actress. You're a big star.”

“I am?” Carole looked stunned. “Do people know me?” The whole concept seemed foreign to her.

They all laughed, and Jason spoke first. “Maybe we should keep you humble and not tell you. You're probably one of the most well-known movie stars in the world.”

“How weird.” It was the first time she had remembered the word weird , and they all laughed.

“It's not weird at all,” Jason said. “You're a very good actress, you've made a hell of a lot of movies, and won some very major awards. Two Oscars and a Golden Globe.” He wasn't sure she'd remember what those were now, and the look on her face said she didn't. But the word movies sparked a memory for her. She knew what they were. “Everyone in the world knows who you are.”

“What's that like for you?” she turned and asked Chloe, and looked like her old self for a minute. Everyone in the room held their breath as she waited for Chloe's answer.

“Not so good,” Chloe whispered. “It was hard when we were little.” Carole looked sad for her as she said it.

“Don't be silly,” Anthony interrupted, trying to lighten the mood. “It was great having a movie star for a mom. Everyone envied us, we got to go to cool places, and you were gorgeous. You still are.” He smiled at his mother. He had always hated the friction between them, and Chloe's resentment as they grew up, although it was better in recent years.

“Maybe it was cool for you,” Chloe snapped at him. “It wasn't for me.” She turned back toward her mother then, as Carole looked at her with compassion and squeezed her hand.

“I'm sorry,” Carole said simply. “It doesn't sound like fun to me either. I would want my mom around all the time if I was a kid.” And then suddenly she looked at Jason. She had just remembered another important question. It was terrible not knowing anything. “Do I have a mother?” He shook his head, relieved to have changed the subject for a moment. Carole had just returned from the dead after weeks of terror for them, he didn't want Chloe upsetting her, or worse, starting a fight with her, and they all knew she was capable of it. There were a lot of old issues there, between mother and daughter, less so between mother and son. Anthony had never resented his mother's work, and had always expected less of her than Chloe did. He had been far more independent, even as a child.

“Your mother died when you were two,” he explained. “Your father died when you were eighteen.” She was an orphan then. She remembered the word instantly.

“Where did I grow up?” she asked with interest.

“In Mississippi. On a farm.” She remembered none of it. “You were discovered and went to Hollywood at eighteen. You were living in New Orleans, when they found you.” She nodded, and turned her attention back to Chloe. She was more concerned with her now than with her own history. That was new. It was as though she had come back as someone different, subtly different, but perhaps forever changed. It was too soon to know. She was starting with a clean slate, and had to rely on them to fill her in. Chloe had done that with her usual honesty and bluntness. It had worried all of them at first, but Stevie suddenly thought it might be for the best. Carole was responding well. She wanted to know everything about herself, and them, both good and bad. She needed to fill in the blanks, there were so many of them.

“I'm sorry I was away a lot. You'll have to tell me about it. I want to hear all about it, and what it was like for you. It's a little late, you're all grown up. But maybe we can change some things. How is it for you now?”

“It's okay,” Chloe said honestly. “I live in London. You come to visit me. I go home for Christmas and Thanksgiving. I don't like L.A. anymore. I like London a lot better.”

“Where did you go to college?” Carole inquired.

“Stanford.”

Carole looked blank. It didn't ring a bell.

“It's a great school,” Jason volunteered, and Carole nodded, and then smiled at her daughter.

“I wouldn't expect anything less of you.” This time Chloe smiled.

They chatted about easier subjects after that, and eventually they went back to the hotel. Carole looked tired when they left. Stevie was the last to leave the room, and whispered to her friend, as she lingered for a minute.

“You did great with Chloe.”

“You're going to have to tell me some things. I don't know anything.”

“We'll talk,” Stevie promised, and then noticed the roses on a table in a corner of the room. There were at least two dozen of them, red, long stem. “Who are those from?”

“I don't know. A French man who came to see me. I forget his name. He said we were old friends.”

“I'm surprised security let him in. They're not supposed to.” Only family members were supposed to visit her, but no French security guard was going to turn away a former minister of France. “Anyone can say they're an old friend. If they're not careful, you'll be overrun by fans.” They had stopped hundreds of bouquets downstairs. Stevie and Jason had had them distributed to all the other patients. They would have filled several rooms. “You didn't recognize him?” It was a foolish question, but she thought she'd ask anyway, just in case she did. You never knew. Sooner or later some memories from the past would surface. Stevie was expecting that to happen any day, and was hoping it would.

“Of course not,” Carole said simply. “If I don't remember my own children, why would I recognize him?”

“Just asking. I'll tell the guard to be more careful.” She had already noticed a few things she didn't like about their security, and complained about it. When the guard on duty went on a break, no one replaced him, and anyone could have walked in. Apparently someone had. They wanted better security for Carole than that. “Nice flowers anyway.”