Page 55 of In a Far-Off Land
Max let the roadster idle and stared at the steering wheel.
I blinked hard, trying to hold myself together. I’d hurt him. I knew it then and I know it now. But honestly, Max, I was trying to save us both a lot of heartache.
“What do we do now?” I asked. I was afraid of the answer, afraid this was goodbye.
He stared at the runnels of water snaking down the windshield.“See you in the funny pages, Mina.” His voice was anything but funny.
Tears stung my eyes, but with the dregs of my control, I answered, “Sure. See you around.” I pushed open the door and got out. “I’m sorry,” I said again, holding on to the door for dear life. Sorry for not being who he wanted me to be. For all of it.
He didn’t look at me. “So am I.” He put the auto in gear and was gone. Something hurt inside me then. I’m not sure what, but it was deep and sharp and everything I deserved.
I wrote to Penny that night because I felt so rotten about what I’d done.
You know, Penny, once you start pretending, it’s hard to stop. Then one day, you realize you’ve turned into a stranger. A stranger you don’t like very much.
She’d never see the letter, I knew that now, but somehow it made me feel better confessing it all to her.
——————
I wasn’t sure what to expect after that. But it turned out, Max didn’t hold a grudge.
I’d hurt him pretty terrible, but after it was all said and done, he showed up at my door the next Monday afternoon as if nothing had happened. Maybe he’d thought about it and saw I did the right thing. My relief was like the first breath of air after swimming underwater. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” I said as he helped me into his roadster.
“I told you from the start I wouldn’t give up on you.” His voice was easy, but he wasn’t quite the same. The set of his shoulders,his hands tight on the steering wheel, said what it cost him to face me. From then on, Max was all business. No more smiles, no more hand-holding. But he was true to his word and didn’t give up. By the end of January, I had a screen test at Cosmopolitan for the lead in a film calledShe’s No Angel.
I’d never been so nervous in my life. Max coached me through my lines the night before, told me what to wear and even how to do my makeup. By the time I stood in front of Edward Weiss, the casting director, I thought I might faint. Mr. Weiss had a high forehead, wispy blond hair, and a kind smile. In no time, I was as comfortable as if I were in my own parlor.
When I came off the set, everybody said I’d been marvelous. Mr. Weiss said to Max, “Terrific, fantastic. Just like you said, Max. Perfect for this film. I’ll let you know as soon as I run it by Hearst.”
Max treated me to champagne at the Sunset Tower. I was over the moon at first, but then noticed Max was quiet. “What is it?” I asked, worried now that I’d done something wrong.
“Nothing, kitten. I knew they’d go mad for you.” He downed the last of the champagne like it was water. Sometimes, he was just hard to figure.
We waited for word for two weeks. “Don’t fret,” Max told me, but it turned out I had reason to worry. Max broke the news gently: Ed had called. He’d tried his best, but Hearst had stopped production onShe’s No Angel. “Ed says Hearst hinted at some financial problems. He won’t make any new hires, and Ed’s gotta use the actors already on contract.”
I was devastated.
“This was just the first try,” Max assured me. But my cash was running low and so were my hopes. He got me two more auditions.I did my best, but the films got canned before they were even cast, the economic woes of the country coming to call in Hollywood.
Max didn’t seem worried. If I didn’t know better, he seemed relieved.
I started pushing. “Just get me a walk-on, a few lines.”
“We’ll do this my way or not at all,” he snapped one night after I’d been harping on him.
I laid off, but Max didn’t know what was at stake for me. I had to go back to Odessa with everything Papa and Penny needed—or not go back at all. Maybe that’s why when Louella invited me to Lester’s, I jumped on board like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic.
And that’s what got me in the mess I’m in now. In a stranger’s home, wanted for murder, and all alone. I turned over on the hard bed. The sliver of moon in the tiny window and my own regrets were poor company in the dark night. Max, where are you? Have you finally given up on me? I wouldn’t blame him if he had. For the life of me, I wished I could take it all back and start over.
CHAPTER 7
OSCAR
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Oscar knelt in the confessional. Muted light shone through the metal screen, revealing the outline of Padre Ramirez. “It has been a week since my last confession.” Roy Lester had been dead for four days, and Oscar felt like he’d lived half a lifetime since.
He’d spent the previous morning driving the city, looking for Max while Minerva Sinclaire sat in his house, endangering his family. Max was nowhere to be found. He finally gave up, cursing his cousin. The afternoon he spent in thesociedades, gathering his courage to call Brody. He had nothing to report except what Lupita had told him about the drink, and he wasn’t going to throw Lupita to the dogs like that. Finally, he made the call.
“I haven’t got much to tell you,” he admitted when Brody answered.
