California Girls(74)

“Your father bought this for me.” Mary Jo smiled sadly. “Your biological father, I mean. We were so poor, but so happy. We’d been invited to a fancy party and wearing fur was all the rage.” She pursed her lips together. “It wasn’t like today when any kind of fur has a stigma. Back then it was all good. Your dad found this at a thrift shop.” She sighed as she walked back and forth in the kitchen, the fur contrasting with her T-shirt and yoga pants. “I felt pampered and oh so beautiful.” Her smile turned wistful. “Your father had a way of doing that. He could turn any occasion into something special.”

“Do you still miss him?”

“Less than I used to, of course. He was a wonderful man. I’m sure over time we would have had our ups and down, but he was gone when everything was still perfect.” She looked at Finola. “Then it was just you and me.”

She draped the fur over a kitchen chair. “I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll keep this. Maybe I can get it cleaned. It’s not in horrible shape.”

Memories were powerful, Finola thought, wondering what she would want to keep from her marriage when—

No, she told herself firmly. Her marriage wasn’t ending. She and Nigel were going to get through this and come out stronger than before. They had to.

She put the next box on the table and opened it. Her mother was still stroking the fur so didn’t notice the box until Finola pulled out a large green-striped hatbox.

“This is nice,” she said. “But I don’t remember it.”

Mary Jo looked up. “Oh, there it is,” she said, almost to herself. “I’d wondered... You shouldn’t open it.”

“Really?” Finola laughed. “You’re keeping secrets.”

Her mother surprised her by running her hand across the box. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. It’s been so long. Go ahead. I’ll get the wine.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

Finola quickly cleared off the table and set the hatbox in the middle. She sat down, then carefully removed the lid. Inside was a hodgepodge of greeting cards, jewelry boxes, folders and several scripts.

Her mother returned with an open bottle of pinot grigio and two glasses. “Go ahead. Go through it, then ask your questions.”

Finola opened one of the robin’s-egg blue boxes with the words Tiffany & Co. embossed on the top. Inside was a beautiful starfish brooch encrusted with diamonds.

“Holy crap, are these real?”

Mary Jo poured the wine. “They are.”

“You can’t keep something this valuable in the garage, Mom. It should be insured and in a safe-deposit box.”

“I suppose.” She took the brooch and held it in her hand. “It’s pretty, but not me. Still Parker insisted.”

“Parker?” Finola pulled out one of the folders and opened it. Inside were head shots of Parker Crane.

The actor was much younger in the pictures, all handsome with a sexy smile and a twinkle in his eye. Parker Crane had been as famous for his reputation with the ladies as for his movies, she thought, trying to remember what else she knew about him. But he’d been way before her time. Now he was a successful TV character actor who still had a roguish air about him.

“You knew Parker Crane?” she asked, looking from the pictures to her mother. “No, you were involved with him. When?”

“After your father died. For months I was too stricken with grief to do much more than take care of you. There wasn’t enough money to support us forever so I had to do something. When I started looking for a job, a few friends insisted I go with them to a big Hollywood party first. Just to get my spirits up. Parker was there. He swept me off my feet. You and I moved in with him. We traveled the world. It was very romantic.”

“I don’t remember any of this.”

“You were still just a baby. Probably about a year old.”

“You met a guy at a party and took off with him?”

Her mother smiled. “I’m sure I made him work a little harder than that, but in essence, yes. I was so grateful not to be sad anymore. I knew it would never go anywhere. Parker was the consummate playboy and it wasn’t as if I truly loved him. Your father still had my heart. But it was fun while it lasted.”

Finola took a drink of her wine. “How did it end?”

“I woke up in a hotel room in Rome and he was gone. The bill was paid and he’d left two tickets for us to fly home. I remember lying in bed thinking I had to start living a real life. That I was done with pretend and done with Hollywood.”

She picked up a small ring box and opened it. Finola gasped when she saw the large ruby surrounded by diamonds.

“You could have sold the jewelry and lived off the proceeds for a few years.”

“Oh, I was going to, if it became necessary.” The smile returned. “I wasn’t foolish enough to think Parker’s gifts were to be kept sacred. But I wanted to see if I could support myself first. I did sell a couple pairs of earrings to pay for secretarial school, then I got a job as a receptionist at the ABC television studios and that’s where I met Bill.”

Finola thought about her handsome, movie star biological father, and then Parker, a man from the same mold. “Did you marry Bill because he was a regular person?”