“Thanks,” Lou Lou said, and turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “Hey, you’re a great liar, maybe you can tell him you checked out Scooter and it didn’t pan out. Don’t worry. You’re right, this bozo is a lying little jerk.”
Elizabeth said, “Hey, look who’s here.” The women looked up to see Detective Vasquez, John Goddard, and Jack Wolf walking toward them, all three of them in slacks and loafers, looking like they owned the earth.
“Is that a macho strut or what?” Elizabeth said.
Lou Lou batted her eyes, patted her heart. “Oh wow, do you think these guys are movie stars? Maybe we could barter our bodies for their autographs!”
Mary Lisa looked them up and down. “Nah, they look more like strolling mariachis who couldn’t find the cantina. You look on the warm side, Detective Vasquez.”
Daniel was the only one wearing a jacket because he had a holster with a Beretta in it fastened with a clip to his belt. “Yeah, I suffer for my job.”
Mary Lisa laughed, and introduced John to Elizabeth. They eyed each other and Mary Lisa found that immensely interesting. She smiled up at Jack, found herself wanting to jump up, no makeup, ratty ponytail, dried sweat and all, and take him down.
John nodded down to Elizabeth. “Jack and Daniel told me about your segment on TV last evening. So who’s the lying little jerk you guys were talking about?”
“Big ears,” Elizabeth said and scuffed her bare toes in the sand.
Mary Lisa looked at Detective Vasquez and gave him a smile that many BTBW viewers knew to distrust on sight. “This creep at Turley & Tom’s who lied to Elizabeth, told her he wasn’t married.”
Elizabeth nodded. “The idiot was so clueless he didn’t even know he had a tan line from his wedding ring.”
Jack looked down at the sand. Mary Lisa knew he was debating whether or not to sit down in his dress slacks.
She patted the ground beside her, and gave him a shameless grin. “Well, pretty boy?”
He shook his head after giving her the once-over. “Unlike you, I’m clean and working. I just got these pants back from the cleaners. They ain’t going back for two more wearings.”
“Unless a catsup bottle gets you,” Lou Lou said.
Mary Lisa rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re discussing Jack’s dry cleaning.”
Elizabeth eyed John Goddard. “Shall we discuss yours, instead, John?” she asked while she gave his ring finger a blatant look and grinned at him.
John looked down at her-hair sweated down to her head, not a dollop of lipstick on her smart mouth, and the whitest teeth he’d ever seen. “Hard to believe you’re really a TV newscaster.”
Elizabeth gave him a sweet smile.
Mary Lisa shook her head at him. “What? You don’t believe this scrap heap of a gym bunny you don’t want to sit too close to before she showers is a TV goddess?”
John waved his hand at her. “Actually, I was just thinking goddess myself.”
Jack said, “And she was willing to read your lame script about the van.”
Elizabeth’s white teeth gritted. “Mary Lisa didn’t write that lame script, I did. And it’s netted-what-”
Daniel said, “You told me sixteen calls so far. And this Scooter guy. You’ve got to tell me more about him so I can try to locate him.”
Elizabeth cursed under her breath.
Daniel gave her a perplexed look, saw she wasn’t going to say any more about it, and made a big deal of sniffing the air. “So this is why you guys are sitting close to the water? To dissipate the gym smells?”
Mary Lisa patted Elizabeth’s knee, said up to him, “We sure hope so. Nothing but salt air and potato chips. You want some?” She stuck the nearly empty bag at Jack.
He took the bag, looked in it, and shook his head. “You offer me crumbs? After last night?”
He tossed the bag back at her and watched her funnel it, expertly settle the edge of the bag on her lower lip, and slide the rest of the crumbs into her mouth. He also saw the flush on her cheeks. He grinned. He’d never before seen a girl do the funneling thing, well, except for his sister Connie. Mary Lisa tossed it to Lou Lou who threw it cleanly into the trash can.
Daniel said, “So first you guys work your butts off then you sit out here on the beach and chow down on potato chips? What’s wrong with this picture?”
Mary Lisa grinned up at him. “I would have thought you understood the art of exercise. A full hour at the gym spinning with the Mad Bitch and you’re hurled into the Negative Calorie Zone-”
Elizabeth leaped in. “A wondrous place where calories are guilt-free. Who could ask for more?”
There was some laughter, but it quickly dwindled into silence. The jokes were good, Lou Lou was thinking, wishing for something else clever to say. At least they’d kept Mary Lisa’s mind off what was happening, actually all their minds, for a little while. John cleared his throat. “I told you guys last night it was only an overnighter for me. I came to say good-bye. I’ve got to head back home.”
Elizabeth’s head quickly came up.
“A late afternoon flight,” John said, his eyes on Elizabeth. “But I’ll be back when I can break free again.” He said to Mary Lisa, “I’m leaving you in good hands. You take care, all right?”
She swallowed. “Yes, all right. Have a safe trip, John. Thanks for coming down.”
He looked from her to Jack, smiled reluctantly. “It was an enlightening trip.”
FORTY-THREE
In 1951, on Love of Life, there were only two commercials, one at the beginning, one at the end. Today, actual soap time runs about thirty-eight minutes out of an hour.
BORN TO BE WILD
Susan slams out. You can hear the front door hitting hard from the living room. Not three minutes later, the doorbell rings and Draper, Sunday’s butler, bodyguard, and confidant, answers it. She hears low voices, then her father walks into the living room. To Sunday’s surprise he’s in casual dress, an open-collared shirt and slacks. He looks very handsome.
She’s surprised to see him, but she is over it quickly. “Since you’ve come, Mr. Galliard, you might as well tell me why you and Mom split up. Why you left and let me believe I didn’t have a father.”
“Good morning to you too, Sunday. Do you mind if I call you Sunday? After all, it’s the name I gave you when you were born.”
“You can call me Ducky, I don’t care. It’s time for some answers. If you’re not ready to give me any, you can leave.”
He looks at her, studies her.
Sunday calls out, “Draper-”
Draper appears in the doorway.
Her father slowly nods, says, “Very well, I’ll answer your questions.”
Sunday nods to Draper. He disappears.
“Let’s get to it then. I have a great deal to do today and you weren’t on the schedule. Why did you leave Mom?”
He spots a coffee carafe on the sideboard and walks over to it, pours himself a cup, raises it slowly to his mouth. He sets the cup back down on the sideboard.
She taps her watch face. “I’m waiting.”
He draws a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Your mother didn’t want to be a preacher’s wife. It’s as simple as that.”
“No, nothing’s that simple.”
“All right. Don’t forget, Sunday, the Cavendish family is old-time wealth, on the social A-list for too many years to count. They run foundations, control large charities. They own more commercial and private real estate than anyone in the state. You know that very well, since you run the Cavendish empire. They were at least as dominant when your grandfather ran the show.
“Lydia was young, fresh, spirited, and bright. She expected to shop in Paris, ski at St. Moritz-to live the life her wealth could give her. When I told her I planned to enroll in the seminary, she thought about it, and told me it was over, with her family’s backing.”