“I'd like that a lot.” John looked at him intently, and for a moment, the boys' eyes met and held, and then quickly, John turned away, and a moment later he spotted Greg. He seemed anxious to leave them then, and Lionel invited Anne to dance. She blushed furiously at the thought and refused to dance with him, but after he had insisted for a while, she relented and followed him onto the floor.
“What's that?” The boy who had wandered into the house with Val had followed her into the den, and he was determined to get a hand up her skirt, which didn't look too hard. But a coveted object pushed onto a shelf in the bar had caught his eye. “Is that what I think it is?” He was impressed. This was the first house he'd been in that actually had one of those, even though you sure heard about them a lot in L.A.
“Yeah. So what? Big deal.”
“It sure is.” He stared at it in awe, and then reached a hand out to touch it so he could tell his Dad when he picked him up. “Whose is it? Your Mom's or your Dad's?”
It seemed to cost her something to admit it to him. “My Mom's. You want a beer, Joey?” And then he almost fainted. There was another one. They had two!
“My God! She's got two of them! What for?”
“Oh for chrissake. I don't remember. Now do you want a beer or not?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” But he was much more interested in hearing what her mother had won the Oscars for. His Dad would ask him later, and so would his Mom, but Val didn't seem to want to talk about them. “She used to be an actress, didn't she?” He knew she was a director now. Everyone knew that. And her Dad was a big producer at MGM. But Valerie sure didn't talk about it much. She was more interested in booze and boys. At least that was the reputation she had, and he could almost see up her white leather skirt when she sat down. But actually all he glimpsed was a long expanse of inner thigh.
“Did you ever smoke dope?” He hadn't but he didn't want to admit it to her. He was fifteen and a half years old, and he had met her in school that year, but he'd never taken her out. He hadn't had the guts. She was beautiful, and terrifyingly mature.
“Yeah. Once.” And then he couldn't help himself. He had to ask again. “Let's talk about your Mom.”
That was it. She jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing with rage. “No, let's not!”
“Don't be so uptight for chrissake. I'm just curious, that's all.”
Val looked at him with contempt as she strode to the doorway and looked back. “Then ask her, you creep.” And with a flash of her red mane, she was gone, and he stared at the empty doorway in despair and whispered to himself.
“Shit.”
“Oh?” Greg stuck his head in to see who was there, and the boy blushed and jumped to his feet.
“Sorry … I was just relaxing in here … I'll go back outside.”
“That's okay. I do that here all the time. No sweat.” He grinned and disappeared, in hot pursuit of some dark-haired girl, and Joey went back outside. And eventually they all wound up in the pool late that night, in clothes, in bathing suits, in suits, in dresses, in sneakers and bare feet and shoes. They had a wonderful time and it was 3 A.M. before the last guest went home, and when they were all gone, Lionel walked upstairs with Ward and Faye, and all three of them yawned sleepily as Faye laughed.
“We're a lively bunch … good party though, wasn't it?”
“The best.” Lionel smiled, and kissed his mother goodnight, and when he sat down on his bed in the terry robe he had put on to cover his bathing suit, he sat and stared at the wall for a minute thinking of the day … the diploma … the white gown … the car,… the friends … and the music … and funnily enough, he found himself thinking of John, and what a nice kid he was. He liked him even better than some of his own friends.
CHAPTER 13
