Platinum Doll. Anne Girard
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know how much I’ve been missing my mother since we’ve been out here,” Harlean began and, as she did, she felt her heart quicken.
She so desperately wanted this to go well and there were a dozen reasons that it wouldn’t.
“The mother you talk to on the phone every week?”
Everyone exchanged a glance before they picked up their cards.
“Sorry, doll, yes, I know how much,” he amended. “Why?”
“Well, she and Marino are coming out to California for a visit!” Harlean tried her best to make it sound like a wonderful announcement, but it took some effort with her heart racing as it was.
“Isn’t that great, Chuck?” Rosalie asked cheerfully before he had a chance to react. “After all, we girls are never too old to spend time with our mothers.”
“I’m really awfully happy about it,” Harlean added, her glance shifting from Rosalie back to Chuck.
In the silence that followed, she reached across the table and put her hand over his. She was relieved when he didn’t pull away, even though he kept looking at his cards. “If it’s what’ll make you happy, then I’ll welcome them to California,” he finally said. “How long are they staying?”
There was a note of humor in the way he had added the question, and how quickly. Or maybe it was just that the three of them were so relieved there wouldn’t be a scene that Ivor started to laugh. Then they all did. When he gave Chuck a light brotherly clip on the shoulder, Harlean felt herself finally exhale.
* * *
Jean Harlow Bello always entered a room as if she were driven inside by the force of a strong wind. There was a confidence and attitude that came with her as well as a mighty swirl of her favorite Shalimar perfume. Today was no different. Chuck held the front door open as his mother-in-law strode past him, swirling onto the scene in a smart burgundy traveling suit, with a fox-fur collar, pearl earrings, fashionable black turban and neat black gloves. Having been a teenage bride herself, and a mother at the age of nineteen, Harlean’s mother was still a beauty. But her overly strong personality made a far stronger impression.
Harlean watched Chuck roll his eyes as her mother was followed inside by her husband, Marino, with his oiled inky hair and waxed ebony mustache. He was wearing his customary tight-fitting pin-striped suit with white spats, and he was dutifully toting the luggage.
“Ahh, there’s my baby, at last!” Jean cried out as she drew Harlean to her chest and squeezed her. The gesture was theatrical, but she loved being caught up in her mother’s distinctive whirlwind embrace.
“Mommie is here now, Baby. All is right with the world when we Harlow women are back together.”
Harlean heard the subtle challenge to Chuck in that, as she knew he was meant to, but she refused to react, and she hoped he wouldn’t either to ruin their reunion. Besides, it had been cleverly worded as a compliment. Jean was an expert at that sort of thing. Harlean didn’t love facing that, and the sensation was unsettling, even mixed with the joy of being reunited.
“Hello there, Charles,” Jean said blandly as she tossed Chuck a cursory glance. “Provincial little place you’ve got here.”
It hadn’t been meant as a compliment but Chuck had been brought up well enough not to take the bait.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bello. We’re happy here.”
Harlean heard the unmistakable edge in his response. Jean had never forgiven Chuck for eloping with her precious only child and every look, every word, was meant to remind him of that. In particular, she had resisted inviting him to call her by her first name. But Harlean had gained such confidence these past months of their marriage, by taking chances and by watching Rosalie, that she had every intention now of finding clever ways to help the two of them reconcile their differences, and not allowing her mother to steamroller things this time.
If they spent enough time together, Jean would see what a wonderful young man she had chosen on her own. Going against her family to marry Chuck, when she knew that it was right for her, had only been a prelude to the bold choices she was beginning to make for her life, and she liked the way that felt. The independence she had begun to seek here in Hollywood was drawing her more strongly every day.
“Come on, Marino, let’s find the guest room. You do have one, don’t you?”
“Mommie, you and Marino take our room. It’s larger and much more comfortable.”
She didn’t have to look in order to see Chuck’s shocked stare. “You’re staying here? Harlean, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Until we find our own place, where would you suggest your wife’s mother stay? In a hotel, Charles?”
Knowing how close she was to her mother, Harlean thought he would have assumed the Bellos would stay with them. It was what families did, after all, wasn’t it? But then again, as a young boy, before the death of his parents, perhaps they’d never had out-of-town family. How could she know that when he wouldn’t talk about any of it? Whatever the circumstances, there had to be a way to make everyone happy. If there was, Harlean was determined to find it. Family and loyalty, after all, meant everything to her.
* * *
As the Bellos were settling into the master bedroom, Chuck came to Harlean as she was making up the bed in the guest room.
“Listen, doll, I completely forgot a tennis date I agreed to at the country club in half an hour. I can’t miss it since I’m playing doubles. You understand, don’t you?”
“I just thought maybe we’d take my mother and Marino out to lunch?”
In response, he pressed a halfhearted kiss onto her cheek as he buttoned his tennis sweater. “Why don’t you give Rosy a call? She can probably finagle another table for you all at the Brown Derby. Who knows, that might actually impress your mother.”
Then, before she could object further, he chucked her under the chin and left the room.
When they heard his car engine begin to rumble out on the street, Jean came into the room, sank onto the edge of Harlean’s bed and held up a hand to her daughter.
“Come sit with Mommie and tell me absolutely everything. Have you been well? You look terribly pale and thin. Is he even feeding you?”
“I’d rather hear about Grandpa. How is he doing? I try to call him once a week but you know how he hates the telephone.”
Harlean sat down beside her, trying to press away her disappointment at Chuck’s sudden leaving, as they embraced again. Her mother always smelled like that powdery citrus fragrance and for Harlean it was a comforting scent. Despite the way she had phrased it, Harlean understood the comment. While she encouraged her daughter to keep her figure, Jean would probably always worry about her daughter’s health. The severe case of scarlet fever she’d endured as a girl had frightened them both. No one but the two of them truly understood how life-altering that episode had been. It was one of the many things that tightened the finely woven mother-daughter bond.
“Seriously, Baby, how are you?”
“I’m fit as a fiddle, I promise. And there really isn’t anything to tell. I registered with Central Casting. Rosalie, that’s the girl I was telling you about, didn’t believe I’d do it, so it was fun to see her face after I did it.”
“On the train here, after what you told me, I was thinking about getting you some elocution lessons, and a few ballet lessons couldn’t hurt with bearing before you get a call. Believe me, the cameras see everything. I could never quite make the camera see what others tell me they see of me in person. You know how people have always referred to me as a beauty. But you, you’re different, Baby.”
“Mommie, there were more than fifty girls there that day, lined up around the office, and one was prettier than the next.”
“The world is full