East Side EASTER

Since WWD stole an unauthorized glance at an early draft of DOMINICK DUNNE's new novel, People Like Us, and declared it a roman a clef, Manhattan society has been huddling over its foie gras and playing the guessing game. Here, at last, is a first, exclusive glance at the authorized version, which Crown publishes next month

Lil Altemus had Easter that year. It alternated each year between Laurance and Janet Van Degan's apartment and Lil's, and it was Lil's turn, although she felt a bit put upon by so much family so soon after Justine's wedding. Her daughter had recently married the television anchorman Bernard Slatkin, and it was no secret in the family that Lil thought Justine had married beneath her. The Slatkins were there, of course, although their roles as newlyweds had been superseded by Ormonde and Dodo Van Degan, just returned from their Hobe Sound honeymoon. Lil's eighty-fouryear-old father, the head of the family, although incontinent and possibly senile, had distressed Lil by eloping with her poor relation Dodo Fitz Alyn.

Hubie Altemus came, without his friend, Juanito, of course, who always caused a scene whenever Hubie was summoned to one of the family rites. Christmas he could understand, he said. Easter he couldn't, even after Hubie told him they had been having Easter lunch, at either Uncle Laurance's or his mother's, ever since he could remember, and the practice had been started long before that, at Grandfather Van Degan's when he and Grandmother, dead for years, still lived in the old Van Degan house on Seventyninth Street. "If it's any consolation to you, Juanito, I hate going," said Hubie, leaving.

"I really wish you wouldn't dress like that, Hubie, especially with the whole family here," said Lil to her son when he greeted her on his arrival.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" asked Hubie.

"You know perfectly well what's wrong," said his mother. Although Hubie dressed in blue jeans and cowboy boots, he did not remotely resemble a denizen of Greenwich Village, which his mother insinuated, as his shirts, with their button-down collars, were so unmistakably from Brooks Brothers, and his tweed jackets, with their double vents, were made to order for him by Mr. Sills. Even during the period when he exasperated his mother even more by wearing his hair too long for her taste, and certainly too long for the taste of Uncle Laurance, he had it trimmed every two weeks by the barber at the Butterfield, his father's club, so he ended up by being an outsider in the world he was bom into as well as the world he aspired to be a part of.

Ned Manchester, Lil's cousin on the Altemus side, who, since the start of his wife Loelia's romance with Mickie Minardos, the shoe designer, had to be taken care of on family occasions, was present that Easter, with his two children, Charlotte and Bozzie, who refused even to meet Mickie. "What a wonderful father Ned is," everybody always said. The lunch party was filled out by old friends like Matilda Clarice, whose sons lived in Santa Barbara and Santa Fe, and who always came. And then there were what Lil called her strays, like Gus Bailey, the writer, who had no family that she knew of and no place to go. Ezzie Fenwick, who usually came, backed out at the last minute when he was asked to spend the weekend in the country with Elias and Ruby Renthal at Merry Hill, their new weekend retreat.

"Tell me about this marvelous picture," said Gus Bailey, admiring a large family painting over a sofa in the drawing room.

"That's the whole Van Degan family painted by Mr. Sargent in 1910," said Lil, who loved to describe the picture to newcomers. "That was the drawing room in the original Van Degan house on Fifth Avenue, where the New York Public Library is now. You see, there's the Commodore, and his wife, Annie. She was one of the Houghton sisters, meant to be ugly beyond belief, but look how beautiful Mr. Sargent made her look. And that little boy there, in the pale-blue satin suit, playing with the collie, is my father, Ormonde, age six."

"My dear, look at your dogwood! Too beautiful!" cried Janet Van Degan, entering her sister-in-law's drawing room. "Lorenza's been here, I see."

"Only just left minutes ago. It's getting harder and harder to get Lorenza these days," said Lil. "Of course, her success pleases me, but, after all, it was / who discovered her." She spoke in the possessive way she used when claiming also to have discovered Bobo, her hairdresser, and Nevel, her dress designer, meaning that she had been the first of the ladies in her group who had her flowers arranged each week by Lorenza. "Mrs. Renthal seems to be monopolizing all her time."

"Mrs. Renthal, Mrs. Renthal, that's all I ever hear these days," said Janet, throwing her hands up in the air in mock horror.

"And that damn ball. I can't believe the things Lorenza's been telling me about it," said Lil.

"Unbelievable," agreed Janet Van Degan.

"Imagine brand-new people like the Renthals giving this kind of party," continued Lil. "And inviting all of us. Two years ago no one ever heard of them. I wouldn't dream of going."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the young Van Degans, Laurance and Laura, with little Janet and the baby, Laurance III, whom everyone called Third. Little Janet, who everyone said was a handful, made a dash for her grandmother.

"Who is this who is coming to see me? Who is it? Who?" cried Janet Van Degan as her granddaughter ran to throw herself into her arms. Amid great screams of laughter, Janet picked up the child. "The preciousness of her! Look at this adorable creature, Lil. Edible, that's what she is. Edible."

Lil watched her sister-in-law and envied her her joy. If she had a grandchild, which she did not have and which she might never have, she suspected, she wondered if she would, and doubted if she would at the same time, feel the kind of joy that Janet felt every time she saw her granddaughter.

"I suppose I should ask Bemie to carve the lamb," Lil said to her daughter. "Does Bemie know anything about carving, Justine? Hubie is so hopeless at it, and you know how cross Uncle Laurance gets if the roast isn't carved right."

"You ask Bemie, Mother," replied Justine.

Bemie, as it turned out, carved very well. Bemie played games very well. Bemie danced very well. Bemie knew how to decant wine. Bemie knew how to give charming toasts. Lil always wished that Hubie took as naturally to these things that she thought so important in a man, or gentleman, as Bemie, whom she did not think of as a gentleman, did.

"No more peanuts, children. You won't believe the goodies Gertie has in store for us,'' said Lil to the Manchester children. "Laurance, help me with the seating. Where shall I put our new stepmother?" she asked, pointing ironically toward Dodo. "She's so used to sitting at the wrong end of the table, but I suppose I have to move her up this year."

When Lil's butler, Parker, told her that luncheon was served, he handed her a silver bell, and she rang it and rang it from room to room, to announce to her family and friends to move into the dining room. It was one of Lil's characteristic things to do at all her parties, and it was thought to increase the merriment of the occasion.

There were two tables at lunch, the long table with the Chippendale chairs, called the grown-ups' table on family occasions, and, in the window, the smaller, round table, called the children's table. Looking down, Lil admired the vermilion-colored border of her fish plates. She loved her dozens of sets of dishes and took as much pleasure in their selection for each course as she did in the exquisite food that her cook prepared to go on them. Glancing down from her place at the head of the grown-ups' table, Lil was glad to see that Matilda Clarke, dear Matilda, her oldest friend, was making Ned Manchester laugh, the first time anyone had seen Ned laugh since Loelia ran off with Mickie. Across from Matilda, she looked at her new stepmother, Dodo Fitz Alyn Van Degan, poor Dodo, no longer poor Dodo, rich Dodo, who would always remain poor Dodo to Lil. Dodo's appearance in the brief weeks of her marriage had improved, and Lil wondered if she was dieting strenuously or better corseted, and if her suit was a real Chanel. A curious alliance in the family was the friendship of Dodo and Hubie. Dodo, it developed, had bought several of Juanito's paintings at Hubie's gallery in SoHo and hung them in the hallway of Ormonde Van Degan's apartment on Fifth Avenue, a few buildings up from Lil's, which was now hers to do with as she saw fit. "I think they're charming," she said the first time she saw Juanito's work, and she did. She sent several other people to Hubie's gallery to buy Juanito's pictures too. In return, Juanito got her the dirty movies that she was too embarrassed to rent herself to show old Ormonde night after night.

'I'm telling you I'm going to die, and you're talking to me about the fucking Duchess of Windsor?'

"You will be sure, won't you, Parker, to tell Gertie how much we enjoyed the shrimp remoulade," said Lil to her butler as he cleared away the first course. Gertie was her cook, and Lil always interrupted her own conversation to send her compliments via her butler. "You used to be able to drive throughout Southampton and know who everyone was. Or, if you didn't actually know them, you knew who they were. Now you see all these new names on those same houses, and you don't know who any of them are, except they've all got about fifty million dollars. Who, pray tell, are the Reza Bulbenkians, who just bought Evangeline's house?"

Lil, who had cases of champagne left over from Justine's wedding, decided to dispense with the red and white wines that day and serve only champagne throughout the meal, making the occasion more festive. She raised her glass and welcomed the new members of the family, meaning Bemie Slatkin and Dodo Fitz Alyn, although Dodo could not strictly be considered a new member of the family, having been a part of it, at a secondary level, since she was taken in by them as a teenager. Dodo, blushing, thanked Lil and raised her glass to Ormonde, who wore his napkin like a bib, who she said had changed her life. Lil and Laurance exchanged glances, as if to say, "I should say so," but only applauded both Dodo and their father. Bemie sprang to his feet and made everyone laugh, telling what it felt like for a person like him to suddenly find himself a member of a family like the Van Degans. Justine hopped to her feet and kissed Bemie, whom she had started to call "dear heart" when she addressed him, although it was a name that Bemie could not bear to be called. It was not lost on Matilda Clarke that Bemie Slatkin found Justine's excessive affection irritating. The toasts ended with Uncle Laurance asking everyone to rise to thank Lil for the wonderful day she had provided for them.

The late spring afternoon had turned rainy and chilly, and Parker lit a fire as the group re-entered the drawing room to settle in Lil's dark-red damask sofas and chairs for coffee. Hubie and Justine stood together in front of one of the tall windows and looked out at the park, talking quietly. Laura Van Degan minded little Janet, who needed changing. Dodo minded Ormonde, who needed changing. Bemie Slatkin settled into a spirited game of backgammon with Matilda Clarke, who considered herself a champion, and was mildly put out that Bemie kept winning. Ned Manchester talked with Uncle Laurance and young Laurance about the state of the stock market and expressed concern about what he, too, called the New People, like Elias Renthal and Reza Bulbenkian, who seemed to be running the financial world, but Uncle Laurance assured Ned that Elias Renthal was the most fascinating man in the financial community in years, and necessary to it. Gus Bailey, quiet that day, as he always was on holidays, talked with Lil Altemus, who had placed him next to her at lunch, about Trollope, who was her favorite writer, as she fed cookies to her King Charles spaniels. Bozzie Manchester excused himself to go to the men's room, but used the escape to telephone his mother, Loelia, at the Rhinelander Hotel to wish her a happy Easter.

Inevitably, during Van Degan gatherings, photograph albums were brought out, and several people at a time pored over the pictures and captions. "Do you remember that time, Laurance, at Evangeline Simpson's wedding? Look how pretty Evangeline was way back then. Poor Evangeline. She was so drunk the other night at Baba Dashwood's," said Lil.

"Look at Sonny Thomas. My God, Lil. What ever happened to old Sonny?" asked Laurance.

"He married that woman with one leg, what'shemame, with the daughter on heroin. Betsy Babcock. He married Betsy."

A sense of melancholy filled the air of Lil's large room, as if they all knew that this would be their last Van Degan Easter.

"Where's Juanito today?" asked Justine. She and Hubie were staring out the window at a bag lady establishing a beachhead for herself on a park bench across the street. Behind her a magnolia tree was in its first day of full blossom.

"Oh, lordy, I haven't a clue," replied Hubie, as if Juanito were no more than a casual acquaintance. It was not a truthful answer, but he did not wish to appear, even to his own sister, from whom he had no secrets, or very few, to be in the thrall of his Puerto Rican lover, even though he knew that she knew that he was. Juanito Perez had the power to make Hubie miserably unhappy with his rampant promiscuity, as well as ecstatically happy on the occasions he focused his amatory attentions on him.

"Hubie, when are you going to tell me?" asked Justine.

"Spring is bustin' out all over," replied Hubie, pointing to the magnolia tree.

"Hubie?" insisted Justine.

"Tell you what?"

"Hubie, it's me, remember, your sister."

"What's to tell? You already know. I knew you knew."

"How?"

"At your wedding. Just before you were going up the aisle. When you kissed me. I saw in your eyes then that you knew."

Her eyes filled with tears. "What's going to happen, Hubie?"

"I'm going to cool, I suppose."

"Don't be flippant about this, Hubie."

"I'm not being flippant, Justine. Believe me. I just haven't arrived at my attitude yet. I don't know how to play this scene."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes."

"Do you think it was Juanito who gave it to you?" asked Justine.

Hubie smiled. "Could have been. He tested positive. On the other hand, it could have been about six hundred other guys too. I was never what you would call inactive. Does that shock you, Justine?"

"I'm trying not to be shocked, Hubie."

"Given my proclivities, there was a time not too long ago I even would have put the make on that hot number you got yourself married to."

"Bemie?" They both laughed. "He would have broken your nose."

"Wouldn't have been the first time somebody broke my nose."

"Oh, Hubie. What about Mother? When are you going to tell her?"

"After everyone leaves today."

"Do you want me to be with you?"

"I think this is something I have to do alone. But thanks, Justine."

'Isn't this nice, Hubie? Dinner on trays, just the two of us, in front of the fire? Oh, the deliciousness of an evening at home," said Lil Altemus, clapping her hands. "I get so tired of going out, out, out, all the time. You can't imagine how thrilled I was when you said you wanted to spend an evening alone together."

"There's something I wanted to tell you, Mother," said Hubie.

"I bet you didn't know your old mother could rustle up such a good meal, did you? I couldn't.ask Gertie and Parker to stay on, after all those people all day long. And Lourdes is hopeless on days like Easter. Has been hopeless the whole of Holy Week! Church, church, church, she can't get enough church. On her knees every minute."

"Mother."

"Look at the doggies, Hubie? Aren't they precious? Worn out. Simply worn out. Those children ran them ragged all afternoon. Do you know that Bosie's going to be twelve?"

"Mother."

"The baby's adorable, isn't she? Hubie?"

"What?"

"The baby. Little Janet. Don't you think she's adorable?"

"Cute. Farts a lot. But cute."

"Hubie, you know how I hate words like that. What did you think of the newlyweds?"

"Which set?"

"Dodo and your grandfather."

"Good for Dodo is what I say," said Hubie.

"Oh, Hubie, you always say exactly the opposite of what you should say. Dodo's turned out to be just a little gold digger, and after all this family has done for her. ' '

"You didn't want to change Grandfather's diapers, Mother."

"That's not the point. That's what nurses are for."

"Better he marries Dodo than Miss Toomey, Mother."

"Oh, Hubie, you are the limit. She's getting everything, you know. Laurance has seen Father's new will. All the paintings, all the furniture, all the bibelots on the tables even, all Mother's silver and china. Everything." There was such sadness in Lil's voice that Hubie turned to look at her.

"Mother," said Hubie, holding out his hands in exasperation. "There's not a spare inch in this huge apartment that is not crammed with valuable objects. What more do you need?"

"It's the principle of the thing," Lil said, rising and going over to the television set.

"Now, listen, Mother, we have to talk," said Hubie.

"Do you want to watch 60 Minutes or just talk? Diane Sawyer is interviewing the First Lady."

"Just talk."

"Good. Try some of this fig mousse. It's Gertie's specialty. I don't know how she manages to make it so light. Something about the egg whites, I think. I watched her once."

"You can see that I'm not well, can't you, Mother?" Hubie raised the level of his voice.

"The figs have to be very ripe," Lil continued. "And white figs only. That's very important."

(Continued on page 172)

(Continued from page 155)

"I have AIDS, Mother."

"It's just your color, darling. Your color's not good. And you need to fatten up a bit. You eat like a sparrow, you know. What you need is some good food and some good mountain air." Lil broke two cookies and threw them up in the air for Bosie and Oscar to catch. "There you are, you naughty doggies. I knew what you were waiting for. Yes, I did. Look at them, Hubie."

"I've got lymphoma, Mother. That means three or four months, the doctor said. Maybe no months," said Hubie, so quietly that he thought perhaps she had not heard him.

"I thought you and I might take a little trip to the mountains. They say Saint Moritz out of season is too beautiful for words, and so healthy. But when? That is the problem. There's that damn ball of the Renthals' that Laurance insists I not miss, and the Todesco wedding, and the final gala for the ballet, where I'm the chairperson. After that, we'll go."

"By September I might very well have been dead for several weeks," said Hubie.

Lil had started to breathe heavily. "Oh, please, Hubie. This sort of talk is so morbid. I don't know how you could do this to your family."

"Thank you for your support, Mother."

"Does anyone know?" asked Lil.

"Juanito knows."

"Oh, I don't care about Juanito, for God's sake. I mean, does anyone we know or anyone in the family know?"

"Justine, only."

"Before me, you told Justine?"

"She guessed."

Lil put her hand to her heart and held it there, as if she were attempting to keep herself from considering the consequences of what her son had just told her.

"Paris!" she screamed.

"What?"

"Paris. That's where you should go. The Duchess, Wallis, Windsor, you know, my mother's great friend, she and the Duke used to stay with Mother and Father in Palm Beach every winter."

"I'm telling you I'm going to die, and you're talking to me about the fucking Duchess of Windsor?"

"No, no, there is a point to all this. She left all her money to the Pasteur Institute, and they do all those marvelous things for that particular disease. I'll send you to Paris."

"Do you want to get rid of me, is that it, Mother? So your friends don't have to know that your son is gay and has AIDS? That's why you want to send me to Paris, isn't it? Well, I'm not going to go to Paris." He got up from his chair, kicked the tray table, and the tray went flying to the floor. Bosie and Oscar began barking and tearing at the uneaten food on the plates. Hubie watched the manic scene for a moment and then started for the door.

"Please, please, Hubie, don't go," cried Lil. "Please don't leave me now. Please. I've heard all about that disease from Bobo, you know, my hairdresser Bobo. His salon has been decimated. Alfonso, Peregrine, Jose, they're all gone, and all those dancers in the musicals, and in the ballet, and, oh, my dear, in fashion, you wouldn't believe the numbers. Nevel told me. But I didn't think people like us got it, Hubie. I didn't. I didn't."

Even through her sobs, Lil could hear the door close and knew Hubie had gone. For a long time she sat in her chair without moving. When the telephone rang, she did not answer it. Then, slowly, she rose and carried her tray out to the butler's pantry and left it on the counter. Then she returned to the library and picked up Hubie's tray off the floor, replaced the plates and glass on it, and carried it back to the butler's pantry, where she placed it on the counter next to her own. She turned off the lights and started to leave the pantry. Suddenly, she turned on the lights again and went back to the counter.

She picked up her mother's applegreen-bordered Meissen dinner plate that Hubie had used and looked at it, in a porcelain farewell. Then she dropped the plate on the pantry floor and watched it smash into irremediable disrepair. Then she dropped the wineglass that her son had used and watched it smash. She picked up a fork and spoon off his tray, looked for an instant at the Montmorency pattern with her maiden monogram, LVD, engraved on the handles, and dropped them down the trash chute.

By the telephone on the counter were a pad and pencil where Gertie kept her notes. "Order Malvern water," it said, and under that, "Israeli melons." Under these reminders, Lil wrote, "Gertie: Please forgive the ghastly mess I've made. I tripped. P.S. The fig mousse was yummy!"