I could barely hear myself think over the din of cameras snapping and the crowd buzzing. But, as I had long ago trained myself to do, I pretended as if I felt perfectly calm inside, as if being treated like a tiger at the zoo was my most comfortable situation.
Don and I held hands and smiled for every flashing bulb. At the end of the red carpet stood a few men with microphones. Ruby was speaking to one. Joy and Celia were speaking to another. The third put his mic in my face.
He was a short guy with small eyes and a bulbous, gin-blossomed nose. A face made for radio, as they say.
“Miss Hugo, are you excited for this picture to come out?”
I laughed as kindly as I could to disguise what a stupid question he was asking. “I’ve waited my whole life to play Jo March. I’m incredibly excited for tonight.”
“And you seem to have made a good friend during filming,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“You and Celia St. James. You seem like you’re great friends.”
“She’s wonderful. And wonderful in the film. Absolutely.”
“She and Robert Logan seem to be getting hot and heavy.”
“Oh, you’d have to ask them about that. I don’t know.”
“But didn’t you set them up?”
Don stepped in. “I think that’s all for questions,” he said.
“Don, when are you and the Mrs. going to start a family?”
“I said it was enough, friend. And it’s enough. Thank you.”
Don pushed me forward.
We got to the doors, and I watched as Ruby and her date, followed by Joy and hers, walked through.
Don opened the door in front of us, waiting for me. Robert held the one on the other side for Celia.
And I got an idea.
I took Celia’s hand and turned us around.
“Wave to the crowd,” I said, smiling. “Like we’re the goddamn queens of England.”
Celia smiled brightly and did exactly as I did. We stood there, in black and green, redhead and blonde, one of us all ass and the other all tits, waving to the crowd as if we ruled them.
Ruby and Joy were nowhere to be seen. And the crowd roared for us.
We turned around and headed into the theater. We made our way to our seats.
“Big moment,” Don said.
“I know.”
“In just a few months, you’ll win for this, and I’ll win for The Righteous. And then the sky’s the limit.”
“Celia is going to be nominated, too,” I whispered into his ear.
“People are going to leave this movie talking about you,” he said. “I have no doubt.”
I looked over to see Robert whispering into Celia’s ear. She was laughing as if he actually had anything funny to say. But it was me who got her those diamonds, me who got her that gorgeous picture of the two of us that would make headlines the next day. Meanwhile, she was acting as if he was about to charm her dress off. All I could think was that he didn’t know about that line of freckles on her hip. I knew about them, and he didn’t.
“She’s really talented, Don.”
“Oh, get over her,” Don said. “I’m sick of hearing her name all the damn time. They shouldn’t be asking you about her. They should be asking you about us.”
“Don, I—”
He waved me off, determining, before I’d even said anything, that whatever I had to say was useless to him.
The lights dimmed. The crowd quieted. The credits started to roll. And my face appeared on the screen.
The entire audience stared at me on-screen as I said, “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents!”
But by the time Celia said, “We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,” I knew it was all over for me.
Everyone was going to walk out of this theater talking about Celia St. James.
It should have made me afraid or jealous or insecure. I should have been plotting to one-up her in some way by planting a story that she was a prude or sleeping around. That is the fastest way to ruin a woman’s reputation, after all—to imply that she has not adequately threaded the needle that is being sexually satisfying without ever appearing to desire sexual satisfaction.
But instead of spending the next hour and forty-five minutes nursing my wounds, I spent the time holding back a smile.
Celia was going to win an Oscar. It was as plain as the nose on her face. And it didn’t make me jealous. It made me happy.
When Beth died, I cried. And then I reached over Robert’s and Don’s laps and squeezed her hand.
Don rolled his eyes at me.
And I thought, He’s going to find an excuse to hit me later. But it will be for this.
*
I WAS STANDING in the middle of Ari Sullivan’s mansion at the top of Benedict Canyon. Don and I had made it up the winding streets without saying much of anything to each other.
I suspected he knew the same thing I did once he saw Celia in that movie. That no one cared about anything else.
After our driver dropped us off and we made our way inside, Don said, “I need to find the john,” and disappeared.
I looked for Celia but couldn’t find her.
Instead, I was surrounded by brown-nosing losers, hoping to rub elbows with me while they drank their sugary cocktails and talked about Eisenhower.
“Would you excuse me?” I said to a woman in a hideous bubble cut. She was waxing on about the Hope Diamond.
Women who collected rare jewels seemed exactly the same as men who were desperate to have just one night with me. The world was about objects to them; all they wanted to do was possess.
“Oh, there you are, Ev,” Ruby said when she found me in the hallway. She had two green cocktails in her hand. Her voice was lukewarm, a bit hard to read.
“Having a good night?” I asked.
She looked over her shoulder, put the stems of both glasses in one hand, and then pulled me by the elbow, spilling as she did.
“Ow, Ruby,” I said, noticeably perturbed.
She nodded covertly to the laundry room to the right of us.
“What on earth . . .” I said.
“Would you just open the goddamn door, Evelyn?”
I turned the handle, and Ruby stepped in and dragged me with her. She shut the door behind us.
“Here,” she said, handing me one of the cocktails in the dark. “I was getting it for Joy, but you have it. It matches your dress, anyway.”
As my eyes adjusted, I took the drink from her. “You’re lucky it matches my dress. You nearly poured half the drink on it.”
With one of her hands now free, Ruby tugged on the pull chain of the light above us. The tiny room lit up and stung my eyes.
“You have absolutely no decorum tonight, Ruby.”
“You think I’m worried about what you think of me, Evelyn Hugo? Now, listen, what’re we going to do?”
“What are we going to do about what?”
“About what? About Celia St. James, that’s what.”
“What about her?”
Ruby hung her head in frustration. “Evelyn, I swear.”
“She gave a great performance. What can we do?” I said.
“This is exactly what I told Harry would happen. And he said it wouldn’t.”
“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”
“You’re losing out, too. Or do you not see that?”
“Of course I see it!” I cared, obviously. But I also knew I could still win Best Actress. Celia and Ruby would be competing for Best Supporting. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ruby. We were all right about Celia. She’s talented and gorgeous and charming, and when you’ve been bested, sometimes it’s good to recognize it and move on.”