skipped through her condo to get to the kitchen before her answering machine picked up. When she missed the call by one ring, she decided she really was going to have to get another phone for her bedroom. But, since the only jack available was used for her modem, another phone also meant another line.
“Damn, I hate these things. Pick up dear. It’s your mother.”
Corinne cringed and considered playing not at home. She held her breath and waited.
“Damn it, Corinne, I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing. Now pick up the damn phone.”
Damn was her mother’s favorite word. She said it was because back in the fifties it was the only swear word they would let a woman say on film. It sort of became one of her trademarks—the sultry eyes, the husky voice and the fact that she said damn before almost every line. The first few times it could be highly effective, but after the tenth or so damn, it started to lose its impact.
Knowing there was no way out, she picked up the phone. “Hello, Mother.”
“Ah-hah, I knew you were there,” Grace Weatherby said as if she had uncovered some dark and diabolical plot.
“I was in the bedroom,” Corinne explained, not like that meant anything to her mother, who had only seen her condo once. And even that had been just a glimpse.
“I have tragic news. It’s absolutely damning!”
Corinne waited.
“Your sister is refusing to go to the damn Cannes Film Festival. Can you believe it? I’ve told her, her only hope of winning an Oscar is if the critics start to see her as a serious actress. And she refuses to listen to me.”
Serious actress. Myra? Corinne didn’t think so, not when her last film had starred an alien and the film before that a ten-foot gorilla. “Myra is a Hollywood box-office star. Maybe she’s content with that.”
If you asked Corinne, Myra would have been content as a toll taker. Blessed with her mother’s flaming-red hair and endless legs and her father’s fine cheekbones and green eyes, she was destined to be Hollywood’s girl for however long the ride would last. And, of course, the Weatherby name didn’t hurt. But Myra’s heart was never really into it.
“The money isn’t enough. Damn!” her mother exploded. “How long have I tried to instill in all of you that a Weatherby has won an acting award in each generation? Your father for best actor, me for best supporting actress, and even your brother managed to walk away with a Tony.”
“And there was my plaque for employee of the month,” Corinne added with her tongue in her cheek.
“Yes, of course,” her mother agreed.
Corinne could almost hear her mother struggling to recall what it was that she did for a living.
“Darling?”
“Yes, Mother?” Corinne knew what was coming.
“What exactly do you do for a living?”
She was twenty-seven and had been working as a financial controller for the same company for the last six years. However, her mother chose to block such horribly dull thoughts as finance from her mind. So, each time Corinne mentioned her work, Grace would always have to ask the inevitable.
“I’m a controller, Mother.”
“Oh, yes.” Her mother sighed, even though Corinne knew she had no clue as to what that meant. “And do you still live in that…state?”
“Obviously, since I’m the one who answered the phone.”
“Don’t get fresh with me, young lady.”
“Haddonfield is a nice town. And New Jersey is a fine state, Mother. It has mountains and beaches…”
“Please,” her mother interrupted. “New Jersey is just that damn place right after you leave New York and are on your way to Hollywood. Anyway, the reason I called was to have you call your sister and tell her she must go to that damn festival.”
“I can’t call her. I’m about to leave for my vacation.”
“Vacation!” her mother exclaimed, as if Corinne had somehow said the word hell instead. “Weatherbys don’t take vacations.”
They had had this argument before. “Most Weather-bys get three months off in between movies or productions. I have to go to work every day. I need a vacation.”
A huge sigh, then, “Where are you going?”
“The Bahamas. Paradise Island.”
“Dear, couldn’t you have done better than that? Why, I can rattle off the top of my head at least fifteen more suitable islands.”
“Paradise Island is in my budget, Mother.” Budget was another word she knew her mother detested. Every once in a while Corinne liked to throw it into the conversation just to rile her. She could almost see Grace shuddering on the other end of the phone.
“At least tell me you’re going with that nice man…what was his name? Brendan?”
Yet another reason why Brendan and she were destined to be together. Her mother loved Brendan. The one time Grace had managed to set foot in New Jersey, Brendan and Matthew had been helping Corinne move into her new condo. Her mother had practically recoiled at seeing Matthew, big and sweaty, wearing tattered jeans and a torn cotton T-shirt. There was such plainness about him, she’d told Corinne later.
But Brendan had made a big fuss over her mother, referred to her as Corinne’s sister, then went on to list a few movies she’d starred in. Her mother had practically drooled over him.
It was that much harder to tell her mother that Brendan wasn’t coming with her. “Not this time, Mother. He has to work.”
Work on becoming an unattached man, that is.
“Well, you have a lovely time. And you’ll call me when you return?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Damn, I hate good-byes.”
“I’ll call in two weeks.” Corinne hung up the phone. “Or in two years,” she muttered after she was sure the connection was broken. Sometimes her mother could be very draining, to say the least. Not that she didn’t love the woman with all her heart, her father, too, it was just that they lived such a different life and believed in such different things that Corinne was never too sure how she came from them.
For one thing, the whole family mocked her idea of one true love. To them it was as foreign as domestic champagne. It was common knowledge that both her mother and her father slept with every leading person they ever starred with. Her mother could list ten true loves alone, and while her father’s memory wasn’t as good these days, given time he could list a handful as well. The only thing that had kept the family together was the fact that her mother and father had starred together in so many movies.
No sir, not for her. Myra had just broken off her fourth engagement. And her brother, Jeffrey, was working on his third wife. Corinne wanted something different for her
