The Swans of Fifth Avenue

What, who, would ever make this feeling go away? He reached for the phone to call Babe, but his hand touched a bottle of vodka on the nightstand instead.

He grabbed it, rejoiced in the cold bottle against his sweaty hand that trembled now as he poured himself a nice glass, tipped his head back, savored the liquid for a moment in his mouth, delaying the pleasure for as long as he could before he swallowed, the sting, the slap of it down his throat, more and more until he was foggy, until he saw the ball again, saw it as he’d dreamed it, and he giggled, remembering Billy Baldwin’s glorious unicorn mask, Penelope Tree’s bizarre getup that would surely get a huge mention in tomorrow’s papers, Gloria’s precious remark about her jewels being too heavy, Marie Dewey’s breathless exclamation that she was going to paste every newspaper mention of it in a scrapbook just for him. Kay’s tearful thank-you as she laid a hand on his shoulder when they said good night; her murmured, “I didn’t deserve anything half this lovely.”

Babe’s proud smile the moment she stepped into the ballroom, her dark, grave eyes seeking him out, approving, loving, always loving.

He wasn’t crying now. He took another drink, leaned back, closed his eyes, kicked off his shoes.

“Tell me a story,” he whispered, his eyes heavy, his skin hot, his clothes too tight, his heart beating too loudly, as he could hear it in his ears. The room spun behind his closed eyes, but it was a gentle spin now, a carousel, not a hurricane. “Mama, tell me a story.”

He fell asleep before he could remember that Mama wasn’t there.





CHAPTER 15


…..





My God, it was the most divine party! Oh, what a night it was, I tell you!

Everyone was there, absolutely everyone. My God, the people—movie stars and politicians and everyone who was anyone. They all came out that night.

The music was divine. The food, perfect. The dancing, oh, the dancing! To see those glorious people dancing the Twist! Gliding about like Fred and Ginger to a waltz!

And my dear, what people are saying about it now. I’ve been inundated with phone calls! Everyone wants a quote. And that Penelope Tree, what a goddess. I’m going to put her on the cover of Vogue someday.

And you! You, you were absolutely marvelous. Well, everyone is saying so. No one can imagine a better party, ever. Anyone else who was even thinking of throwing one—well, they’ve all given up now, I should think so! Thrown up their hands and retreated. “Why even bother now?” they’re all saying.

It was simply the most magical evening ever. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, you know. You are absolutely the toast of the town, the king of the world.

“I am, aren’t I?” Truman opened his eyes; Diana Vreeland was grinning at him, waving her red talons, holding up newspaper after newspaper filled with coverage, pictures of him and his famous friends.

“Yes, you are. Truman, you’ve done it.”

“I’m so glad you were there, really! The night would have been a complete failure without my darling dragon lady, the divine Mrs. Vreeland!”

“As I said, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Truman rose, they exchanged kisses, and he tripped out of her office at Vogue, waving his hand airily at one and all, as if he were royalty.

Diana smiled for a moment, then sat back down.

Thank God he hadn’t realized she hadn’t been there. She’d just lost her husband, Reed—why on earth did Truman think she’d want to go to a party? So she’d shown up for dinner at the Paleys’, as invited. But when the time came to leave, she got in a taxi that took her straight home, not to the Plaza.

And Truman was none the wiser.



“NORMAN MAILER WENT AROUND trying to start a fight. All night long! First with McGeorge Bundy, then with George Plimpton, then with anyone named George, then finally just anyone.”

“Oh, how divine! I saw him, and I thought, Norman, you’ve made my party! Although he wore that dirty raincoat the entire time—I doubt he even bathes, do you?”

“Only in the tears of his envy over you, True Heart. Now, tell me the truth.” Slim arched an eyebrow, leaned back on the sofa of her hotel suite. “Didn’t Pamela look hideous?”

“Absolutely. Completely stuffed, like a goose, if you know what I mean. You looked fabulous, my pet. Simply fabulous. What a shame Kenneth couldn’t come.”

“What do you mean? I would have been bored to tears if my husband had been there. As it was, I had a wonderful time.”

“I thought Gloria looked a little tight. Did she have some work done recently?”

“No,” Slim said, while nodding. “Of course not.”

Truman cackled. “Big Mama, you’re an absolute treasure!”

“Babe looked wonderful, of course.”

“As always. You know what I always say. Babe Paley has only one fault—she’s perfect. Other than that, she’s perfect.”

“Isn’t that the truth? But I love her, of course.”

“So do I, more than anyone in the world—except for you, Big Mama! But wasn’t it a fabulous party?”

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