Once Upon a Day (29 page)

Even those execs who did want Lucy initially, didn’t want her bad enough to alienate Charles and Walter. This was what Pam kept reporting to Lucy, and Lucy knew that Charles had been on the phone again, asking someone not to cast his poor wife, who was still suffering far too much to handle the incredible demands of shooting a film. He didn’t have to tell any of them why she was suffering. They all knew about the attack, and most of them knew a lot of the details. Like Pam said, word gets around. Both Pam and Lucy were positive the attack had absolutely nothing to do with why they wouldn’t cast her, though of course the studio people comforted themselves by pretending it did. It was all about kissing up to Charles, especially now that he and Walter were planning a brand-new movie that promised to be the biggest-budget film made in 1984.

The movie was called
Master of Dreams.
It was based on a strange sci-fi script that Charles had written, set fifty years in the future, when a group of scientists discover Dream Control, or DC. The idea is that by intense concentration, dreams can be manipulated to any desired outcome. The scientists claim DC will bring on a new utopia, where everyone will have more freedom and more creativity, and also help find solutions to enduring problems like war and cancer. But when DC falls into the hands of a greedy corporation planning to make employees more productive by chaining them to work as they sleep, the scientists have to get help from the only group who knows how to resist DC. Called the Uncons because of their belief in the premodern dreams the unconscious supplies, they will have to save humanity from becoming slaves who have lost their ability to dream.

The tagline for the movie poster was:
Who Will Control
Your
Dreams?
Walter had a mockup created to show the studio VPs, who went wild over the idea of what they called a “futuristic Western.” To Lucy, the truly wild part was that Charles had managed to convince everybody he was making a film, even though he was probably never going to shoot a single frame.

He was very up front about this with her, but only with her, and she could tell he wasn’t concerned in the slightest that she would tell anybody. And he was right. She wouldn’t publicly turn on her own husband. No matter what he’d done to her, she couldn’t bring herself to do that to him. She also hoped that if, by some bizarre chance, he did make this movie, maybe he’d let her act in it.

While Pam was trying to find someone, anyone, who would hire Lucy, Charles was trying to convince Lucy that her “obsession” with her career was hurting their relationship, not what he was doing to prevent her from getting a part she wasn’t physically ready for. To prove it, he agreed to go to counseling together, but the counselor he chose was their parish priest. Father Drake was an older man, very conventional, and Lucy wasn’t surprised when he said they both needed to put their marriage first, especially as neither of them needed to work to support their family. “The world provides many distractions,” Father Drake said. “The lure of money and fame can be very strong, but God tells us that these things will not bring us the peace we desire.”

On the wall behind the priest was a gorgeous picture of the Virgin Mary. Lucy had been looking at it since they sat down. Her veil was the richest blue and her halo was so radiant it seemed to catch the sun coming in the window across the room. But it was the expression on her face that really got to Lucy: the sweetness and wisdom and especially the complete serenity. No wonder Catholics prayed to her, Lucy thought. She was a human being who’d lost her only child in the cruelest way imaginable, and yet she still believed.

“I don’t want money and fame,” Lucy said, because it was true. She wanted serenity like Mary’s, but no matter how hard she prayed
she still startled awake every morning with a dread that made no sense to her. She looked away from the painting. “I just want a job.”

“Have you considered volunteer work? It can be very rewarding, and you could do it for a few hours a week until you’re fully recovered.”

She’d already had to leave the office to walk around when her right leg went numb. Otherwise, she would have denied she wasn’t fully recovered now, the way she had with Pam.

Charles was looking at her, but she still said it. “I’m an actress. That’s what I do. If I could volunteer to act, I would.”

It was getting harder and harder for Lucy to believe that she’d ever really been an actress. Charles had made her successful, but more than that, he’d given her faith in her own talent. Now she wondered if she’d had any talent in the first place, or if she’d been just like a thousand other starlets, with one big difference. A famous man had fallen in love with her. Maybe he’d only given her the career the same way he’d bought her the house, to make her happy.

“Why is acting so important to you, Lucy?” Father Drake said. “You have two lovely children and a very devoted husband. Your family has suffered a great deal, but you’ve also been given much joy.”

Charles took her hand, and she said, “I like pretending I’m someone else,” knowing it would bother her husband. It wasn’t even true. She used to like acting because it made her feel everything more, including her own life.

Father Drake looked confused, but he turned to Charles and asked what he thought.

“I wish Lucy could understand that I’m only trying to take care of her.” His jaw was tight. “I’ve made so many more movies than she has, and I know how difficult filming can be in the best of circumstances. If she has a relapse now, it might be years before she is back to being herself.”

“But shouldn’t that be my decision, Father?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard ‘As God is the head of the church, so the husband is the head of the family.’ Sometimes this is taken to mean
that the husband has more rights than the wife, but this isn’t so. The true meaning is that to a husband is given a great responsibility for the welfare of his wife and children, both physically and spiritually.” Father Drake looked at Lucy. “Isn’t it heartening that your husband is taking this responsibility very seriously?”

She said yes, but when she and Charles were back in the car, she told him she was finished with Father Drake’s marriage counseling. “No wonder you wanted to see him,” she snapped. “He’s your puppet.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said, and he sounded genuinely sorry. He always did.

“I’m going to a therapist,” she said. “Somebody who has some training for a change.”

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll go with you.”

“No. I want somebody to hear what I have to say. Just me. Lucy Dobbins nobody, not Charles Keenan’s wife.”

“You’re not nobody, Lucy.”

“Sure.” She turned on the radio, and cranked up the rock song. She threw her arm out the window, even though it made her feel like a stupid kid.

Janice helped her find a therapist who specialized in women’s issues. Of course Charles did go with her because he went everywhere with her, and there was nothing she could do about that. Even her neurologist said she wasn’t allowed to drive until she was sure she wouldn’t lose feeling in her leg.

He had to wait outside the office though. It was her appointment, so she could tell the psychologist exactly what she thought. She was glad she’d booked two full hours because she had a lot to say. And Tracey, the psychologist, seemed to really understand. She said Lucy’s husband was obviously very controlling, and his keeping Lucy from getting any movie roles was both patronizing and aggressive, an act of symbolic violence against Lucy’s ability to exercise her own free will. She also said he was using the attack by the two men as an excuse to dominate both her and the children.

Lucy nodded, but she said, “I don’t see how he dominates the children exactly.”

“He tells them what to do in the name of caring for them. He doesn’t let them freely explore their world.”

“He does love them though.”

“Maybe, but what kind of love? For the controlling personality, everyone in his life is viewed through the lens of his own desire for power.”

Lucy looked at the door that opened into the waiting room. She thought about Dorothea giggling this morning when Charles was crawling up to the window of her playhouse, making what were supposed to be elephant noises, but really sounded like a cross between a rooster and a donkey. And last night, when Charles had spent almost two hours sitting with Jimmy because the little boy couldn’t sleep. Charles had even written a story for Jimmy about a brave five-year-old with red hair who slays dragons and witches wherever he goes by challenging them to a game of chess and then tricking them into sticking their necks out while playing, so he can chop off their heads. Jimmy loved that story. He was already very good at chess.

Tracey had moved on to another topic. “I assume he also tries to control what happens between you in the bedroom. Tell me, does sex seem unusually important to him?”

“I don’t know if it’s unusual, but sure, it’s important to him.” Lucy paused. “It used to be one of the best parts of our relationship.”

“Best to him or to you? Did you have orgasms, Lucy?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were nineteen when you married, and a woman that age can’t even know what she wants, much less know how to ask for it.”

“But I did have orgasms. If you must know, I always did, even the first weekend we were together. Now I don’t, but that’s not his fault. I don’t feel very sexy right now.”

Tracey nodded. How can she nod? Lucy thought. Didn’t I just tell her she was wrong?

“So you still have sex, but no orgasms. Would you say you’re only doing it for him?”

“I guess so.”

“And he accepts this?”

“I’ve told him it’s the only way I can.”

“Do you feel you have to keep him satisfied?”

“I don’t feel I have to.”

“Are you worried he’ll have an affair?”

“No,” Lucy said, though it had crossed her mind, but not because of anything Charles had done. It was more because of how damaged she was, not even physically, but in some other essential way that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Why do you think you continue to comply with his sexual demands?”

“I told you, he isn’t demanding sex.”

“But he does expect sex from you even though he knows you don’t enjoy it. He expects you to meet all his needs. This is typical of the controlling personality because their own needs are always more real than the needs of anyone around them.”

Lucy wanted to walk out right then, but she was afraid of being rude. She also didn’t want to explain to Charles why she hadn’t stayed the full two hours.

But a few minutes later, when Tracey suggested that Charles could be dangerous if Lucy ever told him no, Lucy finally said she was finished with the appointment.

“I know it’s difficult to face this,” Tracey said. Her eyes were sympathetic. “Most women in your position wouldn’t have even taken the first step of coming here today.”

“The first step?” Lucy said irritably. “And what’s the last step, leaving him?”

Tracey said of course she couldn’t tell Lucy to leave him, but she did want Lucy to know that she had a responsibility to protect herself
and her children. “If a man like that finds his power over the family threatened, he becomes increasingly desperate to regain control.” Tracey added that desperate and even dangerous behaviors were often the result, particularly when the man, like Charles, had already shown a propensity for violence.

Lucy wondered what she was talking about, but then she remembered Tracey’s point that Charles keeping Lucy from getting any movie roles was some kind of “symbolic violence.”

“You know what?” she suddenly said. “I don’t think you know a damn thing about violence.” Lucy could hear a trace of Southern accent in her own voice for the first time in years. “Violence is when you get your face slapped raw by your uncle while he’s yelling that you’re a cock-teasing little bitch. Violence is when a guy takes a lighter to your back and then kicks you in the head when you throw up from the smell of your own burning skin. What Charles did, violent? Even if he placed an ad in
Variety
saying I was the worst actress in Hollywood and I never worked again, that would be a walk in the park compared to violence.” Lucy stood up and shook her head. “I can’t believe you don’t have even the tiniest bit of sympathy for him. The man came home and found the woman he loved almost murdered. Can you imagine what that was like?”

Tracey told Lucy that her anger was a normal reaction to having her defenses questioned. Out in the waiting room, Tracey told Charles that the fee was $260 and she would take a check.

On the way to the Mercedes, Lucy impulsively reached out and hugged him.

“What’s this for?” he said softly, but he didn’t let her go.

“I thought you might need a hug,” she said, though now that he had his arms around her, she remembered how safe she used to feel there, and she had to resist pushing him away.

He was so much happier on the drive home that Lucy almost didn’t call Pam back. She didn’t want to hear any more bad news; she was tired of being angry with Charles. But Tom had written
“urgent” next to the message, so Lucy went to the breakfast room and called her agent. And she was glad she did because Pam was calling to report that Lucy was finally being offered a part.

She didn’t even have to do a screen test because the director loved her work. The casting people would get Lucy the script tomorrow, but Pam had already read it. She said it was exactly what Lucy wanted: a serious drama that was being filmed entirely in L.A.

The director, Brett Marcus, was someone Lucy had heard Charles complain about before, but she couldn’t remember why. But as Pam told Lucy, if her husband was an enemy of this guy, all the better. Then Charles and Walter would have no influence on him.

“You’re set, baby,” Pam said. “Here we go.”

When Lucy hung up, her primary feeling was relief. She decided not to tell Charles right away though. What if she hated the script? Then they would have the argument for nothing. Of course it would be a huge argument because she had won. He would be mad at her for days, but eventually he would get over it.