Changes (13 page)

“Hi, Pam. Thanks for the suit. Shall I put it in your bathroom?”

“Sure … okay … thanks.” She stood up, feeling awkward with Mel, and Mel suddenly felt the same overwhelming urge to take the young girl in her arms, however tall and grown-up she was. Inside, she was still a lonely, unhappy little girl.

“That's a nice tape. Val has that too.”

“Which one is she?” Pam looked intrigued again.

“The blonde.”

“Is she nice?”

Mel laughed. “I hope so. Maybe someday if you come east with your dad, you could meet them both.”

Pam sat down on her bed again. “I'd like to go to New York someday. But we hardly ever get to go away. Dad can't leave his work. There's always someone he has to be around for. Except for a couple of weeks in the summer, when he goes nuts, leaving the hospital, and calls back there every two hours. We go to Aspen.” She looked unimpressed, and Mel watched her eyes. There was something broken there. Everything about her looked as though it needed some pep, some excitement, some joy. But Mel had a feeling that a woman could work wonders for the girl. Someone to love her and take her mother's place. The child was keening for Anne, and no matter how much she would resist someone new, it was what she needed most. That dry stick of a German woman downstairs couldn't give her love, and Peter did his best, but she needed something more.

“Aspen must be nice.” Mel was fighting to open a closed door between herself and the girl. And once or twice she thought she could see a glimmer of hope, but she wasn't sure.

“Yeah, it's okay. I get bored going there though.”

“Where would you rather go instead?”

“The beach … Mexico … Europe … New York … someplace neat.” She smiled hesitantly at Mel. “Someplace where interesting people go, not just nature lovers and people who hike.” She made a face. “Yuck.”

Mel smiled. “We go to Martha's Vineyard every summer. That's the beach. It's not too exciting, but it's nice. Maybe someday you could visit us there.” But at that, Pam looked suspicious again, and before Mel could say anything more, Matthew bounded into the room.

“Get out, squirt!” She leapt quickly to her feet, protecting her domain.

“You're a creep.” Matthew looked more annoyed than hurt, and he looked possessively at Mel. “Dad says dinner's ready and we should all come downstairs.” He stood waiting to accompany her down, and she had no further time alone with Pam, to reassure her that the invitation was just a friendly thought on her part, and not an omen of things to come between her father and herself.

Mark joined them on the stairs and he and Pam gnawed at each other all the way down, as Matthew kept up a running patter with Mel. And Peter was already waiting in the dining room, as Mel saw something haunting cross his face as they entered the room en masse, but he quickly recovered himself. There must have been a familiar look to it all, something he hadn't seen in a long time.

“Were they holding you hostage upstairs? I was afraid of that.”

“No. I was talking to Pam.”

He looked pleased at that, and everyone took their chairs, as Mel hesitated, not quite sure where to sit. Peter quickly pulled out the chair to his right, and Pam looked shocked and half rose from her seat. She sat at the foot of the table, facing Peter, with both boys on one side. “That's….”

“Never mind!” His voice was firm, and Mel knew instantly what he had done. He had put her in his late wife's chair, and she wished that he had not. There was a long, heavy silence in the room, and Mrs. Hahn stared as she came in, as Mel looked at Peter imploringly. “It's all right, Mel.” He looked reassuringly at her, and took the others in with one glance, and the conversation began again. A moment later the dining room was filled with the usual noise, as everyone started with Mrs. Hahn's cold watercress soup.

As it turned out, it was a pleasant meal, and Peter had been right. There was no need to make a major event of it. He and Mel shared coffee in the den when they were through, and the children went upstairs, and Mel didn't see them again until she was ready to leave. Pam rather formally shook her hand, Mel sensed she was relieved to see her go, Marie asked for her autograph, and Matthew threw his arms around her neck and begged her to stay.

“I can't. But I promise I'll send you a postcard from New York.”

Tears filled his eyes. “That's not the same.” He was right, but it was the best she could do. She held him for a long moment and then gently kissed his cheek and stroked his hair.

“Maybe you'll come to see me in New York one day.” But when he looked into her eyes, they both knew that it wasn't likely to happen for a long time if at all, and she felt desperately sorry for him. When she finally left, and they drove away from the house, Matthew kept waving as the car pulled down the block. Mel was almost in tears. “I feel like such a rat leaving him.” She looked at Peter and he was touched by what he saw in her eyes, and he reached out and patted her hand. It was the first time he had actually touched her, and he felt a thrill run through his arm. He quickly withdrew his hand as she looked away. “What a super kid he is … they all are …” Even Pam. She liked them all, and felt for what they'd been through, and Peter too. She sighed softly then. “I'm glad I stayed.”

“So am I. You did us all good. We haven't had a happy meal like that in … years.” And she knew just how many too. They had been living in a tomb, and again she found herself thinking that he should sell the house, but she didn't dare say that to him. Instead she turned to him, thinking of his children again.

“Thank you for inviting me over this afternoon.”

“I'm glad you came.”

“So am I.”

The hospital parking lot came too fast, and they were standing awkwardly outside her car not sure what to say. “Thank you, Peter. I had a wonderful time.” She made a mental note to send flowers the next day, and maybe something special for the children if she had time to shop before she left. She still had to shop for the twins too.

“Thank you, Mel.” He looked into her eyes for a long time and then held out a hand to shake hers. “I'll see you tomorrow then.” She would be briefly shooting Pattie Lou before she left and it would be her last chance to see him. He walked her to her car, and they stood there for another moment before she slid in.

“Thanks again.”

“Good night, Mel.” He smiled and turned to walk into the hospital for a last look at Pattie Lou.

CHAPTER 7

The brief filming of Pattie Lou in intensive care went smoothly the next day. Despite the surgery and the tubes, she already looked infinitely healthier than she had before, and Melanie was amazed. It was almost as though Peter had wrought a miracle cure, and she didn't let herself dwell on how long it would last. Even if it was only for a few years, it was better than a few days. With the living example of Pattie Lou, Peter Hallam had totally won her over.

She saw him in the hall, shortly after she left Pattie Lou. The crew had already left, and she had been about to say good-bye to Pearl. She had to check out of her hotel, and there were a few errands in Beverly Hills she wanted to do, including bringing a little something back for the girls. Mel brought them something from her trips whenever possible. It was kind of a tradition maintained over the years. So now she was going to steal an hour to do a little shopping on Rodeo Drive.

“Hello there.” He looked handsome and fresh, as though he hadn't worked all day. “What are you up to today?”

“Winding up.” She smiled. “I just saw Pattie Lou. She looks great.”

“Yes, she does.” He beamed, a proud rooster. “I saw her this morning too.” In fact he had seen her twice, but he didn't mention that to Mel. Not wanting to make her worry that anything was wrong.

“I was going to call you this afternoon, to thank you for dinner last night. I had a wonderful time.” She carefully sought his eyes, wondering what she would see there.

“The children loved meeting you, Mel.”

“It was nice meeting them.” But she couldn't help wondering if Pam had reacted badly when he returned home again.

She noticed then that he was looking wistfully at her, and she wondered if something was wrong. He seemed to hesitate, and then he spoke up. “Are you in a rush?”

“Not really. My flight isn't until ten o'clock tonight.” She didn't mention her shopping on Rodeo Drive for the girls, it seemed far too frivolous here, amidst the battle for human life. “Why?”

“I wondered if you wanted to stop in and see Marie Dupret again.” She could see that the girl already meant something to him. She was his latest little wounded bird.

“How is she today?” Mel watched his eyes, wondering how any one man could care so much. But he did. It was obvious in everything he did and said.

“About the same. We're getting down to the wire on that donor heart for her.”

“I hope you get one soon.” But again, that seemed a ghoulish thought, as she followed Peter to Marie's room.

The girl seemed paler and weaker than she had the day before, and Peter sat quietly with her and talked, in an almost intimate way, that excluded everyone else in the room save themselves. It was as though there were a special communion between them, and for only a fraction of an instant Mel found herself wondering if he was attracted to her. But his style with her had no sexual overtones, it was just that he seemed to care so much, and one had the feeling that they had known each other for years, which Mel knew wasn't the case. It was a striking case of there being an extraordinary kind of rapport between them. After a little while Marie seemed more peaceful than she had been before, and her eyes reached out to Mel.

“Thank you for coming by to see me again, Miss Adams.” She seemed so weak and pale, one easily sensed that she wouldn't live much longer without the transplant she so desperately needed. She seemed to have worsened since the day before, and Mel felt a tug at her own heart as she walked toward the young woman.

“I'm going back to New York tonight, Marie. But I'll be looking forward to hearing good news about you.”

For a long moment the young woman with the translucent pallor said nothing, and then she smiled almost sadly. “Thank you.” And then, as Peter watched, she let her fears overwhelm her and two tears slid down her cheeks. “I don't know if we'll find a donor in time.”

Peter stepped forward again. “Then you'll just have to hang in there, won't you?” His eyes were so intense in their grasp of the girl that it was almost as though he were willing her to live, and Mel felt as though she could almost touch the magnetic force between them in the room.

“It'll be all right.” Melanie reached out and touched her hand, and was surprised at how cold it was. The girl had practically no circulation, which accounted for the bluish pallor. “I know it will.”

She turned her eyes to Mel then, and seemed almost too weak to move. “Do you?” Melanie nodded, fighting back tears. She had the terrifying feeling that the girl was not going to make it, and she found herself silently praying for her as they left the room, and in the safety of the hall, she turned to Peter with worried eyes.

“Can she hold out until you find a donor?” Mel doubted it now, and even Peter looked unsure. He suddenly seemed exhausted by it all, which was rare for him.

“I hope so. It all depends on how soon we find a donor.” Melanie didn't ask the obvious question, “And if you don't?” because the answer to that was too easily guessed from the condition of the patient. She was the frailest, most delicate girl Melanie had ever seen, and it seemed miraculous that she was still alive at all.

“I hope she makes it.”

Peter looked at her intently, and then nodded. “So do I. Sometimes the emotional factors help. I'll come back and see her again later, and the nurses are keeping a very close watch on her, not just through the monitors. The problem is that she has no family or relatives at all. Sometimes people so alone have less reason to hang on. We have to give them that reason as best we can. But in the end, what happens is not our decision.” Was it hers then? Was it up to this frail girl to will herself to live? It seemed a lot to expect of her, and Melanie was silent as she followed Peter to the nurses' station again, almost dragging her feet. There was no further reason to linger here. Peter had his work to do and she had to move on, no matter how little the project appealed to her. Somehow she wanted to stick around now, to watch Pattie Lou, talk to Pearl, pray for Marie, drop in on the others she'd seen. But the issue was none of them, as she suspected now. It was Peter himself. She really didn't want to leave him. And he seemed to sense that too. He left the nurses and the charts and walked to where she stood.

“I'll take you downstairs, Mel.”

“Thank you.” She didn't decline. She wanted to be alone with him, but she wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was just his style that had gotten to her, the bedside manner, the warmth, yet she knew that it was something more. She was remarkably drawn to the man, but to what end? She lived in New York and he lived in L.A. And if they had lived in the same town? She wasn't even sure of that as he walked her to her car in the parking lot, and she turned to face him again. “Thank you for everything.”