“No, I don’t think I would, now that you mention it,” Daddy said.
“Listen, I’m not complaining,” Juan Martinez said. “I had my moment of glory, right? I mean, lots of people, they spend their whole lives waiting. I had it. So they can’t take that away from me, can they?”
“They certainly can’t,” Daddy said. “Tat, do you have a single? This corner is fine,” he said. We were right at our house.
Juan Martinez took the change. “Everybody should have one moment of glory,” he said.
“Definitely,” Daddy said. “I couldn’t agree with you more. At least one.”
“Listen, mister,” Juan Martinez called out the window. “I hope you won’t be offended by my saying this, but you’ve got a gorgeous daughter, you know that?”
Daddy smiled at me. “Of course I know that.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“You look after her,” Juan Martinez said. “You keep an eye on her.”
“I’m trying to do just that,” Daddy said as we walked into the lobby.
We looked at each other and smiled.
“You know, Tat,” Daddy said in the elevator, “I think there’s an object lesson in that exchange.”
“There is?” I thought he was going to say something about how I shouldn’t be conceited about my looks.
“What I’m thinking of,” Daddy said, “is what he said about a moment of glory. He’s right. We all have it, usually anyway, at one point or another, but it doesn’t always lead anywhere. You think it’s a high point and you’ll go on and on, but you don’t necessarily.”
I wondered if he meant about his having won the Emmy five years ago, and not having won another one. I remember when the shooting started for Domestic Arrangements, Mom said that she was worried Daddy would be envious of Charlie since he’d always had vague thoughts of making a feature film. He optioned a book for about four years and then the author sold it to someone else for more money. I think that made him feel bad.
“Do you know what I mean?” Daddy said.
“About the Emmy?” I said.
“No, about you, darling . . . You don’t know, but when Domestic Arrangements opens, you may suddenly get a lot of attention and, well, it’ll be a nice thing, but it’ll be helpful if you try to take it in perspective, appreciate it, but—”
“Don’t let it go to my head?” I finished.
“Right . . . Lots of people will be crowding around you, telling you you’re gorgeous and talented, which you are . . . but you’ve got a whole life ahead of you. It’s something you have to . . . work on. Things won’t always come that easily, just strolling in and getting a lead in a feature film without any acting experience. That’s great, but don’t expect life to be like that.”
“I won’t,” I promised him.
Mom was at home, stretched out on the couch.
“How’d it go?” Daddy asked, giving her a kiss.
She gestured. “Not bad . . . God, those writers are idiots! You have to sit there, listening to such total junk, and pretend it’s the most fascinating thing you ever heard. How was the show?”
“Fair,” Daddy said. “A lot of male organs, larger than life.”
“Huh . . . oh, honey, that reminds me, did you put those kidneys back? They were supposed to be for dinner. How’s Abigail? Still as relentless as ever?”
“Never saw the kidneys,” Daddy said. “Abigail’s fine, not especially relentless that I could see.”
“You should introduce her to Simon,” I said, taking off my boots.
“What?” Mom and Daddy said together, in horror.
I was taken aback. “Well, you just said”—I meant Daddy—“she doesn’t get that much money from her husband and you’re always saying”—I meant Mom—“Simon ought to get married, so I thought—”
“Tat,” Daddy said. “Abigail is a highly cultured, sensitive person. She loves ballet, she’s studied Oriental art. What would she talk about with someone like Simon?” He looked disdainful.
“Well, that’s hardly the point,” Mom said, bristling. “Simon likes women with some kind of spark, or pizazz. Abigail would probably bore him senseless, reading him the latest issue of Ms. from cover to cover.”
“What do you mean?” Daddy said.
“Well, darling, you’re the one that always said what a party liner she was about feminist things,” Mom said. “I’m only quoting you.”
“That was years ago,” Daddy said. “She’s softened considerably. I thought you said Simon didn’t know what he was doing as a director, that he just got the job because his father knew somebody.”
“That’s how he got the job,” Mom said. “But he’s earned his keep. The cast loves him now. He has them eating out of his hand.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Daddy said. “I thought all that LSD he took might have softened his brain.”
“Lionel! That’s his generation. They all take stuff. So what? Big deal. His brain is in fine shape.”
“Big deal?” Daddy said. “To be stoned for ten years?”
“He wasn’t stoned for ten years.” Mom looked at him indignantly. “He went through a brief period in which he experimented with drugs a little . . . God, you’re such a moralist!”
“It’s his chromosomes,” Daddy said. “Let him worry about them.”
“I’m going to take a shower,” Mom said. “When are you going out, Tat?”
“I’m meeting Joshua at eight.” They were both looking at me so I said, “I’ll be back at one, okay?”
“Fine,” they said together.
Mom and Daddy were having guests for dinner, and Joshua’s parents were going out, so we’d decided to spend the evening over there. Joshua’s father has a wide-screen TV and there was some movie on Joshua wanted to watch. Joshua is an old-movie buff. He likes to watch all the movies some director made, every single one. They have this thing where you can record movies that are on in the middle of the night or when you’re away, and play them back any time you feel like it. Joshua says he wants to make movies when he grows up. But he wants to make really good movies, not like Domestic Arrangements and not like the things Daddy does. He wants to make great movies, like Ingmar Bergman, or Lubitsch. I think he probably will. He’s a very determined person. He said the minute he saw me, he knew we’d go to bed together or he’d die. I didn’t think anything special when I saw him.
Joshua’s parents were just leaving when I arrived. Joshua’s mother was wearing a white fur coat. She had her hair in a gray turban. “Oh, hi, Tatiana,” she said, smiling stiffly. Maybe she felt funny after that talk with Mom and Daddy.
“Well, there’s the girl,” Joshua’s father said. “We had a nice time with your parents the other night, Tatiana. I’m glad we met them finally.” He had this sort of loud, booming voice.
“Yes, they were glad too,” I said hesitantly.
“Now I know where you get your looks,” he said. “Your mother is quite a looker.”
“Patrick,