Michaela was so overwrought that she slept for most of the flight, and only woke up for the last hour. She washed her face and brushed her hair, changed to a black blouse and a blazer, and her looks made Melissa think of Jackie Kennedy’s return from Dallas after JFK was shot. Michaela looked a little like her, minus the pink bloodstained suit.
* * *
—
When they landed, police were standing on the runway, and escorted Michaela into a waiting black van, and spirited her away with Melissa beside her. The casket was removed separately into another unmarked van, and it proved to be complicated to get it to the funeral home, but they managed it with the help of the Los Angeles police.
David was waiting for them at home, and Michaela nearly collapsed in his arms, and then they sat in the living room and talked for a while. Michaela thanked Melissa for everything she’d done in the last twenty-four hours.
“The city has gone insane,” David told Michaela. “Streets are closed, people are crying in the street, they estimate a hundred thousand at the vigil tonight. You can’t get within five blocks of her house. To tell you the truth, I think she would have loved it,” he said, and Michaela laughed and thought about it.
“I think she would have too.”
“This is like mourning royalty. The queen of England or something. The funeral is going to be complicated,” he said. “We had three hundred people on the list. Her assistants called and sent emails and texts, requesting an immediate response. They all accepted. We can accommodate them in the church, and they’re closing the highway to the cemetery so the paparazzi can’t get to us.” David put Michaela to bed then. The kids were sound asleep and hadn’t been able to go out all day. He took Melissa to the guest room after she said good night to her daughter. Michaela was still looking dazed but a little better than before.
In the morning when Melissa woke up, feeling like someone had battered her body with a lead pipe, after all the stress and travel of the day before, Andrew was standing next to her bed in the guest room, staring down at her, and Alexandra was next to him.
“Our Gigi Marla died,” he told her solemnly. “She was our grandma, but we weren’t supposed to say it. She didn’t like that word. Now we have you,” Andy said practically, summing up the situation, to explain it to Melissa. “You’re our grandma too,” Alexandra informed her. “She fell down in an airplane. It fell down in a storm. It was a helipopter. And God took her out of the helipopter and took her straight up to Heaven. She’s there now,” she said. “I miss her. Can we play Barbies now on my iPad?”
“Sure,” Melissa said, and Alexandra climbed into bed with her in her nightgown. Andrew was wearing his Superman pajamas. Alexandra had brought the iPad with her and turned it on. They were supposed to dress Barbie dolls on the screen in a multitude of costumes. Being a grandmother, especially to a little girl, was new to Melissa, but she’d had fun with them when they’d visited her in the Berkshires.
“You know, your snowman was still there yesterday. He’s a little lopsided, but he’s still there,” Melissa told them.
“I want to visit you again,” Andrew said, climbing onto the bed too, and he made a face when he saw the Barbies. Michaela found the three of them there, intent over the iPad, when she came to look for the children a few minutes later. She looked much better, and more human.
“Did they wake you up?” she asked Melissa.
“No, I was awake,” Melissa said, grinning.
“We’re dressing Barbie,” Alexandra told her mother.
“Barbie is stupid,” Andrew said.
“So is Superman,” Alexandra shot back at him.
“That’s enough. Go eat your breakfast,” Michaela told them, and they scampered off.
“Sorry if they woke you,” Michaela apologized.
“They’re adorable.”
Michaela had explained about her mother, but she didn’t want them at the funeral. They were too young and it would be too upsetting.
There was supposed to be a rosary that night, but the police said it would be too difficult to contain, so they were having Marla’s closest friends to Michaela and David’s house instead, about fifty of them, for champagne. She would have liked that better. And the number had grown to a hundred by noon.
The funeral was going to be the next day, and the burial immediately following, with a reception for Marla’s friends and colleagues at her home afterward. It was a major production. Her three assistants were handling it. They were camped out in Michaela’s dining room, and checked with her every five minutes about some detail, wanting her approval.
“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Michaela said as they sat in the kitchen, and David joined them.
“Of course it was going to be like this. She was the biggest, most glamorous star in the world. She was a legend. This is Old Hollywood, and she would have loved every minute of it. I’m sure she’s watching and beaming from ear to ear,” he said, and Michaela laughed.
“If you need to get away, you can come and stay with me,” Melissa offered.
“I think it will die down pretty fast,” Michaela said.
“It may take a while,” David said more realistically.
“Thank you for letting me stay here,” Melissa said. She didn’t want to be intrusive, or let Michaela down either, but she was looking better, with her kids and David around, which added an element of normalcy and comfort for her. With all the intense media attention, they were trying to keep it under control, as small as possible, and on a tight schedule so it didn’t turn into a circus. They wanted it to be as quiet and dignified as possible in the circumstances.
Melissa wore a somber black dress that night for the reception of Marla’s hundred closest friends. Every famous face in Hollywood was there, and Melissa recognized every one of them. Michaela introduced her to the first arrivals, and after that their living room was jammed. They arrived at seven and left at midnight, and drank rivers of champagne.
The next day looked like a Cecil B. DeMille production, with three hundred invited guests at the funeral, and thousands of fans outside behind police lines, with a police officer every few feet to keep them behind the barricades.
The ceremony was touching, but Melissa felt like she was in a movie, not at the funeral of anyone’s mother. It was pure Marla with the flowers Michaela had wanted. Michaela wore a black Chanel suit, and a small black hat, and looked like Jackie Kennedy again. Marla would have approved. Melissa stood behind Michaela and no one had any idea who she was. She thought she looked like a nanny, and Norm laughed when she said it to him later on the phone.