Free Scruples Two by Judith Krantz

circuit for a year before they broke up. Their reunion for a Fourth of July fling had resulted in Dolly’s baby.
    “As her publicist, I think it’s a mistake for her to talk to anybody, anybody at all,” Lester declared. “It’s not as if she’s married.”
    “You know you won’t be able to stop her,” Billy said. “Dolly’s such an innocent, short of sitting on her head.…”
    “Yeah, and she’d probably tell them about Sunshine too,” Lester said firmly. “Except I’ve put the lid on that.”
    “She told you about Sunshine?” Billy asked, stunned.
    “We’ve told each other everything,” Lester answered, beaming with pride.
    Billy looked closely through his heavy glasses into his nearsighted eyes. “Lester Weinstock, I think you are trying to tell me something, so will you stop beating around the bush and spit it out, we’re talking about my best friend here.”
    “I love Dolly and she loves me and we’re going to get married as soon as possible,” he declared.
    “Good God! Has everybody gone crazy? You’ve known her only six weeks, and she was pregnant the whole time. Lester, is this a rescue fantasy?”
    “If it is, she’s the one doing the rescuing. Aren’t you happy for us?”
    “I’m … overjoyed … I think it’s wonderful beyond words,” Billy said, feeling the tears begin to rise. What was wrong with her today? She, who almost never wept, was leaking tears all over the place.
    “Dolly’s decided on the baby’s name,” Lester said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Wendy Wilhelmina Weinstock. Wilhelmina for you because you’re the godmother and Wendy because it goes with Weinstock. Do you approve?”
    “W. W. Weinstock,” Billy said slowly. “She sounds like a studio head. Very Hollywood, Lester, in the grand tradition. Of course I approve. You’re marrying the best girl in the world.”
    Billy stood up and took the floor. “Order in this room, I demand order here! We will now drink a toast to the engagement of Lester Weinstock and Dolly Moon and their baby daughter, my goddaughter, Wendy Wilhelmina Weinstock.”
    In the uproar that followed, Gigi tried to count all the things that made up the California lifestyle. A stepmother who had become a friend, a major haircut, a totally new wardrobe, a promise to move three thousand miles from New York and live in the most beautiful house in the world, an elopement, an engagement, a new baby, about four glasses of champagne—and that was only since breakfast. She adored it here, she thought giddily, as she toasted Lester and Dolly and the newborn baby with such an impressive name. These people were even crazier than gypsies.
    Billy poured herself another glass of champagne. Dolly was a wonder, she mused, a miracle of nature. She and Lester were exactly right for each other. And now that the proof was before her eyes, Spider and Valentine were exactly right for each other too. Obviously she had no natural matchmaking instincts or she would have seen it all coming long ago. If it weren’t for Gigi she’d be feeling intolerably out of things, sitting here with her secret while the others drank to marriage, engagement and childbirth.
    Imagine having a husband who passed out after you’d told him in plain English that you were pregnant! Vito hadn’t had the decency to phone all day. If there had been a mere message that he’d called, she’d have known that he wanted to make up their quarrel. One item of faith on which Billy would bet her last dollar was that if you truly want to make a phone call, no matter how busy you are, no matter how important you are, no matter how the weight of the world is resting on your shoulders, you can do so if there’s a phone available. Years ago Billy had stopped believing anybody who said, “I was going to call you, but I couldn’t get a minute.” But who was she to moralize, she asked herself, she who still hadn’t made her apology to Valentine, who had informed her that she was