“This is a replica of a grotto in France where people who are suffering and dying go for healing, for miracles.”
“It’s haunting.” Gable took in the replica of the cave, the jagged gray stone, the deep crevices lit only by candles.
“A girl in the town would go to this place and pray, and then the Blessed Mother appeared to her. Pretty soon the word spread, and everyone who had an ailment went to the grotto. A spring burst forth nearby in the ground, and they say that the water from that spring will heal anything.”
“Why does it have to be so scary-looking?” Gable whispered.
“Maybe the church is trying to make a point.” Loretta smiled.
“You believe it?”
She nodded.
“Why do you believe it?”
“If you don’t believe in miracles, you might as well not believe in God.”
Alda came out of the sacristy and motioned to Loretta and Clark. They joined the priest, Alda, and Luca in the sacristy.
“Both of you are baptized in the Roman Catholic rite?”
“Yes, Father,” Gable said.
“Yes, Father,” Loretta echoed.
Loretta snapped a few photos of Alda and Luca at the altar. Alda had pinned a small bunch of violets to her caramel wool suit. She had made a hat, and wore gloves to match. Luca wore a charcoal gray suit with a lavender tie.
As Father led Alda and Luca through the vows of the sacrament of marriage, Loretta kept her eyes fixed on the priest. Gable observed Loretta, who listened so intently as each vow was spoken that it was as if Loretta were the one getting married.
Gable felt like a failure as he listened to the priest. He’d had two opportunities thus far in his life to live up to his vows, but he’d failed to do so. He wondered if this stop in Immaculate Conception was a sign, an indicator of a fresh start for him. Alda and Luca had a new life together, and Gable held out hope for his own new beginning. He wanted the chance to try again, to be a good husband, to live with the integrity he admired in others. But to have that fresh start, Gable had some old business to clean up, and it would take time.
Loretta looked at Clark, and he smiled at her. In this light, he noticed a slight bend on the bridge of her perfect nose that he found charming. It wasn’t her classic features that held his interest that day; it was her spiritual countenance that gripped Gable by the throat. She was a believer, and that meant when she loved, she surrendered with her whole heart, with a brand of blind faith that gave him the willies. Gable had not hidden his squirrelly past, his lust for women, or his need for solitude from Loretta. He’d shared his yearning to be alone, to disappear in the woods by himself for days at a time, answering to no one, including his wife. No one, including Gable himself, understood why he stayed married to a woman he didn’t love, except that it had conveniently prevented him from marrying someone else.
Gable loved all kinds of hunting for sport—everything except trapping, because he was afraid of being trapped. So when it came to women, he pursued them, stayed just long enough to please them, and then moved on.
As Gable stood in church, the particular scents of beeswax and incense brought out his self-doubt, the frescoes made him feel small, and the priest reciting prayers in Latin excluded him. It was then that Loretta laced her arm through his, as if to shore him up, include him, and make him feel part of the sacrament. All his life he would remember this moment, when a woman knew what he was thinking and gave him what he needed without expecting anything in return. For a fleeting second, Clark Gable felt redeemed.
Luca assumed that it would be impossible to find a hotel palazzo or anything Italianate in Seattle, Washington, to please his new bride, but he was wrong. After Luca had a long chat with him about the aspects of Italian architecture in the church, the priest placed a call to the Sorrento Hotel in downtown Seattle to see if they had rooms available. The recent blizzard had all but cleared out the city, so there were plenty of vacancies.
Gable valet-parked the food truck at the hotel entrance, which his friends found so hysterical that they tumbled out of it nearly in tears. When Gable went to tip the bellman, he recognized Gable and almost fainted.
“What’s the matter, young man?” Gable asked the bellman.
“I thought you drove a Duesenberg, sir. I saw it in Movie Mirror.”
“I don’t like that old car.”
“You don’t?”
“Nothing drives like a food truck with a stick shift.”
As Father Borman had promised, the hotel was practically empty. After Luca had chosen a sunny suite, Loretta gave Alda a hug, and Gable shook hands with both. They agreed to meet the following morning for the trip back to Mount Baker.
Gable booked two rooms, one for Loretta and another for himself. He inquired about local restaurants, and the clerk recommended the hotel dining room.
“They always do,” Gable said under his breath.
“Why don’t we go out and have some fun?” Loretta suggested.
“Like what?”
“Let’s go to the movies,” Loretta suggested.
“Are you kidding?”
“No—I love to go to the movies, don’t you?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Who’s in them.”
“Give me your don’t-see list.”
“Wallace Beery.”
“But you did a picture with him.”
“That’s why.”
“Anybody else we should avoid?” Loretta asked as she opened the local newspaper.
“Joan Crawford.”
“Are you missing her?” Loretta made a sad face.
“A little.”
“No Joan. Norma Shearer?”
“Traveled that long, lonely highway already. And I got slapped for my trouble.”
“I see.” Loretta’s curiosity was piqued. “That long?”
Gable nodded. “And that lonely.”
“Are there any of us you haven’t sampled?”
“Every day there’s a bus from the Midwest with another batch of dancing, singing blondes with ambition.”
“And you’re at the bus station?”
“If I can help it. Somebody’s gotta greet them. Bring them into the Hollywood family, welcome them into the fold.”
“I’ll bet.”
Gable took the newspaper from Loretta and folded it. “The theaters are right around the corner. Let’s walk the avenue and see what’s playing.”
He helped Loretta into her coat, straightened the collar, and kissed her on the nose. “Let’s go.”
Gable held the door for Loretta. The Seattle air was cold, but there was no wind. “It’s actually warmer here than it is on the mountain.”
“Are you missing southern California?”
“I’m dreading it,” Gable admitted.
“Me too.”
“Why are you dreading it?”
“What are you going to do without me?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You never leave your room. You sit up there and eat chocolates and read fan magazines.”
“Who told you?” She punched his arm.
“I guessed.”
“Oh, look, Mr. Gable! A whole theater featuring . . . you.” Loretta pointed to the marquee. “We can see Chained or It Happened One Night. Well, we can’t see Chained because of your Joan problem.”
“You mean your Joan problem.”
Loretta shrugged. “And I’ve already seen the other one.”
“Did you like it?”
“I told you I loved it.”
“Right, right. I don’t retain positive reviews.”
“I saw it with my sisters and Spencer Tracy.”
“Oh, so that’s whose mail you were looking for.”
“Not really.”
“Come on, on the level.”
“I was waiting for some paperwork. I’m trying to buy a share of the Beverly Hills Hotel.”
“No kidding.”
<
br /> “Uh-huh. These looks aren’t going to last forever.”
“I bet they do.”
“Can’t count on it.”
“I know what you mean. Most actors aren’t like us. They think it’s going to last forever.”
“I thought no one would ever top John Gilbert, and now he’s out of the business. Girls would stand in line in the hot sun for hours to see one of his movies, and now nothing.”
“You have to plan your exit,” Gable said.
“Have you?”
“Working on it.”
“Take me with you when you go.”
“You’re a kid.”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
“I’m a century older, Gretchen.”
“In experience maybe.”
“I think about us—don’t get me wrong.”
She ignored the serious tone. “You haven’t even bought me a box of popcorn, and we’re an us?” Loretta smiled.
“We kissed.”
“How did I do?”
“Not bad. At the time I thought, I could go nuts for that girl.”
“And have you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel all gooey inside.”
“I’m not saying it couldn’t happen.”
“So we’re leaving it up to fate?”
“Don’t you think that’s wise?” Gable lit a cigarette and gave it to Loretta. She puffed away happily.
“I think you can have any girl you want, so you don’t pick anybody permanently.”
“That’s your slant.” Gable was happy they were outside, because she couldn’t see him blush. He had been thinking the same thing in church, but that was one thought he would never share with anybody.
“I think too much selection, and a man loses his appetite altogether.”
“You do?”
“Yep, like a Sunday buffet at Pig N Whistle. You go in there starving and you see all that food laid out, and you can’t choose.”
“You don’t know me very well.”
“Fair enough.”
“You have men chasing you—”
“It’s a bore.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m not looking for just anybody. I want a man I can talk to.”
“How am I doing?”
“You’re all right.”
Gable took Loretta’s arm as they walked. “We should pick a movie.”
“Have you seen Cleopatra?”
“Nope.”
“It’s one of my favorite stories in history. DeMille directed it. He’s after me for a picture called The Crusades.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I think so. If we ever get off that mountain.”
“I’m doing China Seas with Roz Russell next.”
“She’s a doll.”
Gable paid for the tickets. The man in the booth, who was in his seventies, didn’t look up as he made the change and put it in the trough. He tore the tickets and handed them to Clark.
“How’s the picture?” Gable asked.
“I’ve seen worse.”
“Like what?”
“That movie up the street called Chained is a bomb. I like Crawford, but she’s nothing but mush in it.”
“How about Gable?”
“Somebody needs to take a stick to that fella. He’s full of himself.”
“I can’t stand him myself.” Gable winked at Loretta.
The ticket seller sifted through his stubs. “We’d be about the only two people in the world that feel that way. He sells out quicker than the Neccos.”
“You don’t say. Maybe there’s something to that fella.”
“Gotta be. How many people could be wrong?” the ticket seller groused.
Loretta and Clark made it inside the glass doors of the theater before they laughed, but once inside, they let loose. Gable bought them popcorn and sodas, and held the door into the theater open for his date.
Gable chose two seats at the top of the balcony. Except for a housewife or two who slipped in after the dinner dishes, the place was empty. Gable laid his fur coat out on the seat and guided Loretta into it. She sank into the soft fur as if it were hot sand. Gable took the aisle seat next to her. He draped one leg over the seat in front of them, and the other he stretched out into the aisle. He put his arm around her; she held his hand, which rested on her shoulder.
Colbert made her entrance as Cleopatra in a risqué gown, part armor and the rest revealing chiffon. “Some gown.”
“She wore more clothes in the picture I did with her.”
Loretta was riveted by the adaptation of the story. Colbert owned the picture; she was a goddess, yet as vulnerable as a shopgirl hoping for a bigger life.
Gable watched the movie, but only in passing; he was far more interested in the art form sitting next to him. Every once in a while, he was overcome with feelings for her, and he’d kiss her. She’d shush him and push him away, but once, during a long speech delivered by Caesar Augustus, she kissed him back like she meant it, because the truth was, she did.
They were free for one night.
Gable and Young were no longer actors on a set, or charming props for sale at a studio premiere. They were like any Joe and Doris, out on a date at the movies. It was the simple combination of popcorn and a show, an evening most couples took for granted. But Loretta and Clark didn’t. They reveled in the privacy of it, the simplicity of it, the chance to talk shop, to laugh, and to share stories and their desires and hopes.
And there were the kisses.
They were equals, and in this regard, Loretta knew a relationship between them could work. Gable wasn’t so sure, but it had nothing to do with Loretta, but with his ascendance into the Hollywood pantheon of world-famous leading men. Gable knew his life was about to change again. This time, it would ratchet up on the wings of the blockbuster It Happened One Night, which was selling out around the country, with audiences returning to watch it over and over again. That kind of surprise hit was a rarity, Gable knew, and it gave him a foothold at the top that would take years to shake.
With the glory came the sacrifice. Would he ever be able to take a girl to the movies again? He doubted it. But whatever Loretta Young was, that night she would show him that he was still a regular guy, deserving of love not because of what he had achieved but because of who he was, a kid from Ohio who had made good, an ordinary boy who had extraordinary luck. This was how he viewed himself, and it was a relief to be with a woman who saw him for exactly what he was.
Loretta and Clark boarded the lobby elevator at the Sorrento Hotel. He pressed the button and turned to face Loretta. She fumbled to find her hotel key at the Sorrento in her pocket.
“You’re in three oh three,” he said. “Your suitcase is in your room.”
“Thank you. Where are you?”
“Room three oh four.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I hope so,” he said, moving closer to her.
“You’re getting that wolf look.”
Gable laughed. “What are you talking about?”
“Let me show you.” Loretta knitted her eyebrows and bared her teeth.
“I don’t look like that.”
“Yes, you do. It’s hungry-wolf-on-the-prowl time, and it’s very disconcerting.”
“The aim is not to upset you.”
“Whatever your aim is, it’s having the opposite effect.”
“You just shut me right down.” Gable turned away from her and leaned against the back wall of the elevator.
“Somebody has to for once.”
“Do you say everything that’s on your mind?”
“Not always. I try to be tactful.”
“Try harder.”
“Does every woman in the world go along with your act?”
“Usually. And by the way, Miss Elegant, it’s not an act.”
“What is it?”
“Technique.”
“Ugh!”
“Well, you asked me.”
“You didn’t have to put it like that. I’m going into my room, and I wish you a lovely evening.”
Gable put his room key in his lock as Loretta did the same at her own door.
“Hey, Gretchen?”
“Yes?”
“What if this is our only chance?” Gable said quietly.
Loretta dropped her head against the door.
“You’re not praying, are you?”
“No.”
“After that kneeling you did at the grotto, and the appearance of your rosary beads, I’m just making sure.”
“I’m not praying. I’m trying to resist you.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because of your wife in the purple suit.”
“I told you what the situation is.”
“I understand the situation. But I’d like to think that I’m smarter than the excuse you’re giving me.”
Gable grabbed her by the arms. “I have not lied to you. I’ve told you more about myself than I’ve told any other woman I have ever known.”
“That’s a big deal.”
“Stop joking. What if this is the beginning of something for us?”
“That’s a good point.”
“Do you want to turn back, or do you want go forward?”
“If I’m given a choice, I’d like to stay right here with you. Neither forward, nor backward, but right here. With you.”
“Then give me your key.”
Loretta took her room key out of the door and handed it to Gable. He opened the door to his room. “Make yourself at home.”
Gable’s was a cheerful yellow room, with wallpaper of a white trellis with scrolling green leaves. It had the feeling of a garden, which soothed her.
Gable appeared in the doorway with her suitcase. “I’ve fallen for you, Gretchen.”
He dropped the suitcase and closed the door behind him. He helped her off with her coat. He hung the coat in his closet.
“When did it happen?” She slipped out of her shoes.
“On the raft. On the river.”
“I knew on the train.”
“When we met?”
“No. The morning after the first night. I got up early to go to breakfast.”
“I was in the dining car,” he remembered.
“I thought you had waited up all night for me. At least, that’s what I told myself.”
All the Stars in the Heavens Page 22
