Danielle Steel - Family album

“That's what my agent said. What kind of part is it?”

“It's a young woman who…' She went on to describe the part, and Val wondered again why she had called her. She wanted to ask her why she had called, but she decided not to say anything.

“Can I have a few minutes to study it?” Her eyes were intense. She had always been so jealous of Faye, of her looks, of her past, her success, the acting career she had walked away from as a young girl. And now here she was, reading for her. It was the strangest development of her entire career. And her mother nodded now. Val saw that she was getting old. She was only fifty-one, but the last few years had taken their toll.

And suddenly she wanted the part, wanted it more than anything in the world. She wanted to show this woman she could act. She knew Faye didn't think she could, and she wondered whose idea it had been to give her a chance. Probably her Dad's.

“Take ten minutes in the other room and then come back in.” The voice was warm, the eyes worried. What if she couldn't do it. Val read her mother's fears clearly. This was a side of her that her children never saw, the consummate professional, the director who demanded guts and heart and flesh, the woman who had given her whole life to her work. And suddenly Val saw it all, who she was, what she did, how demanding she could be. But it didn't frighten her. She was sure she was equal to the task. She almost went into a trance as she studied the lines, feeling the role, making it part of her. And when she walked back into the room, she looked like a different girl. Ward and the other men glanced up at her, and watched her act. She didn't read. She raged and she stormed, and she spoke, and she never glanced at the paper once. Ward's heart went out to her. He knew how hard she had worked, and how badly she must want this now. And there were tears of joy and pride streaming down Faye's cheeks when Val finished. The two women exchanged a long glance, and suddenly Val began to cry too, and the two women hugged and laughed and cried, as Ward watched them. And then finally, laughing through her tears, Val looked at them both. “Well? Do I get it?”

“Hell, yes!” Faye was quick to answer and was stunned when Val gave her now famous scream.

“Hallelujah!”

CHAPTER 41

Val started work on the film in May, and she had never worked so hard in her life. Her mother worked herself and everyone else to the bone, demanding the utmost from them, working for long, grueling hours, demanding everything Val had in her guts. But it was no more than she asked of herself, or the other actors who worked for her. That was how she worked, and why her work was so good, it was why she had won the Awards Val had sneered at for so many years. She wasn't sneering now. She was loving it. She could barely crawl home every night, and she ended most of her days on the set in tears. At twenty-two years of age, she had never worked so hard in her life, and wasn't sure she ever would again. And if she did, it would be because she wanted to. No one would ever demand so much from her … or teach her so much … she knew that too. And she was happy and proud and grateful.

She had been working for three weeks when her co-star, George Waterston, offered her a ride home. She had seen him around Hollywood before, and she knew he hadn't been pleased when he'd heard who would be playing opposite him. He had wanted a big star, and Faye had to work hard to convince him to give her a try. The deal had been that if she was no good, she'd be canned. Val knew all of that, from the scuttlebutt on the set, and she knew it now, as she saw him looking into her eyes. She wondered if he was her enemy or her friend, and she found she didn't really care. She was too tired to give a damn, and she really needed a lift. Her car had been in the shop for weeks, and she had taken a cab to work. So she looked up at him gratefully.

“Sure … thanks …” She didn't even have the energy to talk on the way home, after she gave him the address, and she was horrified when she fell asleep and he woke her up outside her house. She gave a sudden start as he touched her arm and stared at him, mortified. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Guess I'm not as interesting as I used to be.” He had brown hair and blue eyes, a strong, somewhat weathered face. He was thirty-five years old, and Val had admired him for years. It was all part of the dream that her life had become, starring in a movie with this man. People were already saying that she had gotten the part because of who her mother was. But she didn't give a damn. She was going to prove them all wrong. She was going to knock them dead as Jane Dare, the woman she played, and she looked apologetically at her co-star now.

“I'm so sorry … I've been so tired …”

“My first movie for Faye, I was like that too. I even fell asleep behind the wheel of my car once, and woke up just before I hit a tree. By the end of it, I was even afraid to drive. But she gets something out of you that no one else does, a piece of your soul … or your heart … by the time it's all over, she doesn't even have to pull it out of you anymore. You want to give it to her.” It was exactly what Val was already beginning to feel, along with a whole rainbow of new feelings of love and respect for her mother.

“I know … I still can't believe she gave me the part.” She looked up at him honestly. “She's never liked anything I've done before, and I haven't done much. I mean, I've had a lot of roles in films, but nothing as big as this.” He already knew that, and for the first time in weeks, he felt sorry for her. He hadn't liked her at all at first. She looked like a little tart, and he figured Faye was playing favorites with her, but he soon saw that he was wrong, and now he saw that the poor kid was so scared. It must have been hell for her working for Faye, and with him as a co-star. She was in a world of pros, and she was still a kid, he realized now, feeling something entirely new for her.

“She used to scare me to death.” He laughed, relaxing with Val. She didn't look as cheap as she had at first. She hardly wore any makeup anymore, and she wore sweatshirts and jeans. There was no point wearing anything low-cut or dressed-up, she just took it off the moment she arrived, and she was beginning to live the role of Jane Dare, who was far different than Val. “Your mother is something else, Val.” It was the first time he had called her by name, and she smiled at him.

“You know, I forget she's my mother when I'm on the set. She's just this woman screaming at me, making me so mad I want to kill her sometimes.”

“That's good.” He approved. He knew Faye well, and how she made him feel too. “That's what she wants you to feel.”

Val sighed, comfortable in the big roomy car. It was a white convertible Cadillac with a red interior, and she hardly had the strength to open the door to go home, and then feeling nervous, she turned to him. “Do you want to come in for a drink or something? I don't know what there is to eat, maybe nothing at all. But we can call out for a pizza if you want.”

“How about going out for pizza somewhere?” He looked at the Rolex watch on his arm and then glanced back at her. “I could have you back in an hour. I want to study tomorrow's scene again tonight.” And then he had an idea. “You want to work on it together?”

She smiled at him disbelievingly. U couldn't be true. She studying lines with George Waterston for a movie they were in? It had to be a dream. She decided to answer him quickly, before the dream disappeared. “I'd love that, George. If I don't fall asleep again.” He laughed at her and he was as good as his word. They had a quick pizza on the way, went to his house in Beverly Hills, and read their parts together for two hours, trying different intonations, different moods, until they reached one they liked. It had the same feeling as the drama classes she had loved so much except that this was for real. And at exactly ten o'clock, he drove her home. They both needed their sleep for the next day. He waved casually at her as she let herself into her house, floating on a cloud. It was a pleasure not to be mauled by some kid, or some guy who looked like a pimp. She wondered why she had never met anyone like George before. And then she laughed at herself. Half the women in the world wanted to meet a man like him, and she was working with him every day.