The Chelsea Girls(49)
The waiter poured the wine for Maxine and Hazel, but Arthur put his hand over his glass. “None for me, thank you.”
After the waiter stepped away, Arthur continued. His voice shook with emotion. “I was drinking then. My wife, you see, wasn’t doing very well. The doctors finally agreed that she should be put into a home.”
Maxine sat back, a stunned look on her face. He clearly hadn’t told her the news yet.
Hazel kept on. “What is wrong with her?”
“Her brain’s not right. She can no longer take care of herself, and I can’t ask her for a divorce. She isn’t competent to make that decision, and while it breaks my heart to not be able to be with Maxine as husband and wife, I must keep caring for Caroline. Even if she no longer recognizes me. Back in California, with Maxine, I was under terrible pressure. That’s no excuse, but it got out of control. I’ve promised her that will never happen again. I’m ashamed.”
The hurt and fear in his eyes seemed unforced, real. It was hard to imagine this man violently cutting Maxine’s hair off. Drink could do that to a person, Hazel knew. She’d seen plenty of baby-faced soldiers turn into snarling maniacs after a few drinks in Naples. But she wasn’t ready to let down her guard with him. Obviously, Maxine already had.
“What do you do, Arthur?”
“I’m in food packaging. Not very exciting, I know, compared to your professions. My hope is that I can be a stable force so that Maxine can lead the life of a movie star, knowing that I’m behind her all the way. Not that she needs anyone, I understand that now.”
He began asking questions about the show, and Maxine shared some silly gossip about finding the wardrobe mistress and a stagehand making out in the basement, which made them laugh. By the time the food came, the mood at the table had lightened ever so slightly.
“How long will you be in town, Arthur?” Hazel asked. “Are you planning on attending the opening?”
He looked at Maxine, and she nodded her approval. Hazel appreciated that he’d checked with her first. A promising sign. “I’d love to come. I’m flying back and forth from California a lot, but will make sure I’m here then.”
“Maxine says you met at a theater in Seattle?”
They looked at each other and laughed. Arthur spoke up. “I was taken by her the minute I laid eyes on her. But I didn’t get up any nerve to talk to her until I saw her in the box office, counting receipts.”
Maxine cut in. “I was counting the take from the performance under my breath, and he wandered over and started messing with me, saying random numbers out loud to mix me up. I couldn’t believe the gall.”
“I had to do something to catch her eye.”
“Oh, please, you had your pick of the girls. Everyone was in love with you.” Maxine leaned into him. “And a few weeks later he came and found me when I was at my lowest, and took care of me.”
“I bought you a milkshake, that’s all I did.”
“It meant the world.”
“And now I’ve asked her, begged her, to take me back. I’m off the sauce, and with Caroline settled, I’m a new man.”
In spite of her initial reluctance, Hazel found herself wondering if it wasn’t all right for Maxine to give this guy a second chance. It wasn’t as if Hazel was one to give advice on love, anyway. She’d cloistered herself from the very thought of romance for a long time now. First, her excuse was her focus on her career, or more specifically, what her mother wanted out of her career. No getting sidetracked. Then again, her girl-next-door looks tended to fade into the background in the theater circles she traveled in, where nearly everyone did their best to look fabulous and flashy. Like Maxine.
Later, as she focused on writing the play, she didn’t go out as much as she had before the war. Her day was filled with imaginary characters and scenes, as if a movie were playing out in her head side by side with the real world. She could be walking down the street to the drugstore, but in her mind two characters were holding a conversation in the scene she’d been working on earlier that morning. A couple of times, another resident from the hotel told her they’d said hello in passing but Hazel had seemed to be in a dream, a daze. She was. All of her energy went into her writing.
Only recently, as a director, had she interacted more with eligible men. But she could never let down her guard, not even a little. She had to claim her spot at the top of the hierarchy, to prove that she deserved the title of director and writer, and so refused to flirt or joke with any of the talent or creative team. One of Mr. Canby’s investors, early on, had placed his hand on the small of Hazel’s back and suggested they meet later, in his hotel room. She’d told him that under no circumstances would she ever do such a thing, and warned him against trying anything like that with her actresses. He’d straightened right up and never touched her again.
She had to work twice as hard to preserve her hard-won status and never let herself show vulnerability. The last time she’d been close—physically and emotionally—to a man was when Charlie had that fit up on the roof of the Chelsea Hotel. They’d looked at each other without filters; he’d been at risk and defenseless, and that had brought out a softer side of Hazel. But only for that moment. Ever since then, she’d stayed guarded whenever he was around, which was often.
He was the enemy, not to be trusted. She laughed at herself, picking the most inappropriate person to consider.