"What did you forget now, Richard?" she asked and then focused on me. Her expression froze, first with a glimmer of delight and then quickly with a look of annoyance. "You again?" she said.
"Mommy . . ."
She stared,_then she leaned out farther to look up and down the hallway.
"I see I won't get rid of you so easily. Get in here," she ordered as she dragged me into the apartment.
Mommy closed the door quickly behind me, gazed at me sourly and then walked into the living room. She kept her back to me.
"Why are you pretending not to know me, Mommy?" I asked and wiped one of my tears away quickly.
"Because I don't know you," she said. "I don't know anyone from that life. I can't, I just can't," she said, slamming her fists against her thighs and spinning on me. "Why did you come here? How did you find me?"
"Alice saw your picture in a catalogue and sent it to me. I brought it to Kenneth and he studied it and said he felt sure it was you. Then he called a friend in Boston who helped track you down for me."
"Kenneth?" She relaxed her lips into a tiny
smile, and then realizing what she had done, drove the angry, hard look back into her eyes. "I don't know anyone named Kenneth, except Ken Peters at ICM. You've got to go back," she said. "Tell them . . . tell them I'm not who you thought I was and--"
"But why, Mommy?"
"It's better for everyone all around," she said. She folded her arms under her breasts and stiffened her shoulders like one of Kenneth's statues, firming up her resolve, strengthening her resistance. I just started to cry more openly. "Stop it," she said. "Don't you see? You'll mess everything up, ruin my chances just when I was starting to get someplace. I might have a good part in a movie and another, better modeling job. I'm meeting important people. Just when it's finally happening, you pop out of nowhere and nearly sink my boat."
"I don't understand, Mommy." I took a deep breath. "How did you do this? You had everyone back home believing you died. There was a body. You're buried in the family plot back in Provincetown."
She laughed, went to an imitation ivory cigarette box on the yellowish brown coffee table and took out a cigarette.
"You mean Olivia Logan permitted the poor corpse to be deposited in her precious family ground even though she believed it was me?" She laughed again, found a match and lit her cigarette. Then she fell back into the worn, cotton print easy chair and stared at me as she puffed away. "You look good," she said. "You filled out nicely. Jacob didn't throw you out on the street, I guess."
"He's very sick, Mommy. He had a heart attack and nearly died. Now he's back in the hospital."
"Doesn't surprise me. He's too much like his mother to enjoy life or let anyone else enjoy it. Probably finally soured his own heart." She took a deep breath, shook her head and gazed through the sliding glass doors of the balcony. "I can't have a daughter your age," she said. "I wouldn't get a decent job in this town."
"Why not?"
"It's just the way it is. Young people get everything here, especially women. Look, you don't belong with me, honey. I'm not a good mother. I never was and I never will be. It's just not in my nature."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because . . . because I'm too self-centered. Chester was right about that. Don't you remember? It was always Chester who did the important things for you, not me. And you spent most of your childhood next door with Arlene and George."
"Papa George died, Mommy," I said sadly.
"Did he?" She nodded. "He was pretty sick when I left. I didn't think it would be too much longer. You see," she said, snapping her head up and firing a look of fear my way, "you see how short life is, how quickly your chance to do something fades? I won't get a second chance out here, Melody. This is it for me. That's why I did what Archie suggested when the accident happened."
"I don't understand, Mommy. What happened?"
"Archie was really in an accident," she said, waving her cigarette. "He was returning from a party at a bar where there-was supposed to be a gathering of producers and agents. He had one of his younger clients with him. The girl was really very young, but had everyone fooled, except Archie of course. Anyway, he had me lend her my identification for the night. On the way back, Richard, as you know he's called now, lost control of the car and as soon as it crashed, it caught fire. He was thrown, but the girl was trapped and killed.
"When the police found the body and my identification, Archie and I discussed it and decided it would be better if I took advantage of it to cut myself off from family. So I took on a new identity. I'm Gina Simon, Gina Simon, do you hear? Everyone here thinks I'm years younger than I am!" she added in defense. "I can't get anywhere unless I'm this young, so I did it. Don't look at me like that," she fired. "I knew you were doing well and you were with family. It wasn't as if I left you stranded somewhere."
"Family," I said, my face twisting with rage. "You left me with a family that you knew disliked you."
"Yes, but you're not me," Mammy said. "I figured that in time they would see that and not punish you for being my daughter. And they're all well off, even Jacob."
"Not anymore. His business is struggling and it's hard work and now that he's very sick--"
"You can't live with me. Why did you come here? How can I take you in? Go back and wait until I get established and make a lot of money and then I'll send for you," she promised. "You've got to go before anyone realizes who you are. Where are you staying?" she asked quickly, realizing there might be people who already knew.