All the Stars in the Heavens

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All the Stars in the Heavens Page 40

by Adriana Trigiani


  After a few months of living with Gladys at Sunset House, Tom and Loretta finally moved into Camden House—“their little blue heaven,” as Gladys called it. Tom was annoyed that the house wasn’t ready when they returned from their honeymoon, and decided one day that whether the house was finished or not, he was moving. Loretta could not convince him to wait, so they moved over, living in rooms with paint fumes and empty of furniture.

  Tom handled conflict by pushing through it to get his own way. If Loretta was late, he’d sit in the car and steam, laying on the horn until she joined him. If she was telling a story at a party and got a detail wrong, he’d correct her in front of the company. He was subtle but controlling.

  Alda’s inability to push Gladys to finish the house put her in dutch with Tom Lewis. He pushed Alda aside and took on more of the responsibilities of Loretta’s work, reading scripts, prioritizing appearances, and dealing with the agent. Alda had more time to answer fan mail, which was now out of control because of Loretta’s reach in radio. The pool house at Sunset House was filled with sacks of mail.

  “You need some help, Alda.” Loretta took in the volume of the mail that had arrived.

  “I’ll get some. I put a query letter up at Saint Paul’s. I’ll bring some ladies in to help.”

  “Good idea. I’m taking Judy to the hospital today.”

  “Today is the day? Do you need me?”

  “I can manage. Mama is going to come with me, and Mr. Lewis is going to stay in New York for a few more days, so I figured this was a good time for Judy’s surgery.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Alda, do you have a problem with Judy’s operation?”

  “Forgive me. I think what you’re doing is wrong.”

  “We have an exceptional doctor. Judy will be safe.” Loretta’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine, but that’s not the point. Look at my nose, Loretta. It’s an Italian nose. When I was a girl, I hated it, I thought it was too large. Then I went in the convent and I didn’t care about my nose at all. Didn’t give it a thought. Then I met Luca Chetta and he liked my nose. So I thought about my nose again. Now, when I look in the mirror I see my mother and father, who are far away, but I’m reminded of them.”

  “What are you saying to me?”

  “You shouldn’t change Judy’s ears.”

  “She’s being teased at school.”

  “Teach her to handle the bullies. That builds character. Mr. Gable is part of who she is. If you change her ears, you’re taking away an aspect of him.”

  “She’s getting braces for the buckteeth that she inherited from me.”

  “It’s not the same thing. She knows you’re her mother.”

  “Her father doesn’t have any interest in her.”

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s between them. But there should be nothing but truth shared between you and Judy. Loretta, you have to believe me, no good will come of this secret.”

  “Her father is dead.”

  “That’s a story you’ve made up. The problem is, he’s very much alive.”

  “I agonize about it constantly. I pray about it.”

  “I’m not saying you tell the world. But in the world that your daughter lives in, her aunts and cousins know the truth; the children at school, their parents know the truth, though it’s really none of their business. They’re just guessing, and even that, I’ll give you. But you cannot continue this charade. She will grow up and hate you for it.”

  “She’ll understand someday.”

  Alda’s eyes filled with tears.. “You need someone in your life that tells you the truth. But I understand why people don’t. There is no getting through to you.”

  Loretta walked out of the pool house. Alda didn’t understand the pressure she was under. Loretta’s marriage was already in trouble, even though she was determined to make it work. She missed living at Sunset House with her mother and Judy. It had been a peaceful life, and now she had to deal with her husband’s needs and moods.

  Her husband tried to be a good stepfather, but Loretta disagreed with his parenting style. She was afraid she had married Tom because Gable married Lombard, Sally married Norman, and Polly married Carter. She’d felt left behind, and she’d desperately wanted Judy to have a stable home life.

  Judy’s operation to pin back her ears was as much for Tom Lewis as it was for Judy. Tom hadn’t asked Loretta direct questions about Judy’s background. He’d eventually assumed she’d been adopted anonymously, and that was that. Loretta dismissed any of Tom’s queries as gossip. She told him the story of Saint Elizabeth’s and finding Judy there, the same story she had concocted for the newspapers. Loretta had taken the lie into her new marriage, but only because Gable had rejected her and Judy.

  The first face Judy Lewis saw when she opened her eyes at the hospital was her mother’s. She would remember the soft pink lipstick, her mother’s loving gray eyes, and her encouraging smile.

  “How are you feeling, my baby girl?”

  Judy was eight years old, and she didn’t like being called a baby. But when her mother scooped her up in her arms and held her, she didn’t mind.

  Judy felt pain behind her ears. She reached up and touched the bandage that encircled her head.

  “Try not to touch the bandage, Judy.”

  “Mama, it hurts.”

  Loretta rang for the nurse, who came quickly. “My daughter is in pain.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” the nurse, dressed head to toe in white, said.

  “She looks like a bride,” Judy said.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Loretta smiled.

  “Mama, did it work?”

  “The doctor said your operation went perfectly.”

  “I won’t get teased anymore?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Mama, will you stay with me?”

  “Forever. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

  “And no daddy?”

  “He’s in New York. Judy, is he nice to you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, Judy, he’s your daddy now.”

  “Will my ears be better by the time he gets home?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Good. I don’t want him to see the bandages.”

  “Why?” Loretta’s voice caught.

  “He doesn’t like me to cry.”

  “Judy, it’s all right to cry. Sometimes we need to.”

  “Do you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Daddy doesn’t like it.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” This innocent statement became the words that Judy would hear her mother say through the years. For Judy, there would be no talking to Tom Lewis, no reasoning with him. Judy was adopted, and therefore she was not his. There was distance, and that meant there could only be affection, not love. And sometimes even affection was too much of a chore.

  “Mama, do you have to go back to work?” Judy didn’t like that her mother worked, and that people she didn’t know knew who her mother was. Shy and discerning, Judy saw through everything, and now that she was eight, she saw more.

  “No, I’m here every day and every night. I will not leave you.”

  Judy felt relief. This was a moment she would return to in the years to come. The memory of her mother, steadfast by her side through the long days and nights of her recuperation, would never leave her consciousness. Her mother read to her, they played games, and when Judy was well enough to get out of bed, they went up and down the halls and read to the other children.

  Judy watched her mother’s generosity and kindness, and she became proud of her. It wasn’t like the movie premieres, where people applauded and hollered and made noise and wanted to touch her mother. It wasn’t like her mother’s wedding, which had lasted all day and was hot, and people rushed the doors of the church to see her. This was pure. Loretta was just another mother, Judy’s mother. It
was just the two of them, healing. The world outside didn’t matter, only their relationship. And nowhere in that memory was her step-father. That Judy would remember too.

  The cars were double-parked on Wilshire, but the cops issued no tickets. Outside the Hollywood Canteen, local girls gathered to present socks they had knitted for the soldiers before they were deployed to Europe. Frank Sinatra crooned on the radio in the parked cars, underscoring the excitement. Inside, Hollywood’s most glamorous stars were working, serving the soldiers as an act of support and gratitude before they shipped out.

  Loretta poured hot coffee for the midshipmen while her friends Roz Russell and Irene Dunne passed out doughnuts. Roz was a tall, athletic brunette with flushed, rosy cheeks, while Irene was a strawberry blonde, slim and elegant, with a regal bearing.

  “Dance with me, Miss Young?” a shiny eighteen-year-old recruit asked.

  “They never ask me to dance—I’m taller than they are,” Roz whispered to Irene.

  “It’s because you’re married,” Irene reassured her.

  “So’s Loretta.”

  Loretta came from behind the bar and joined the soldier on the dance floor. As Loretta and the young man in uniform took a spin, the floor cleared. The men were enraptured, watching their favorite movie star dance with their fellow recruit.

  “We have an announcement. Ladies and gentlemen, an announcement.” Throughout the evening, announcements had been made. The music would stop, the dancing would cease, and everyone in the canteen paid attention.

  “Sad news. Our good friend and supporter Carole Lombard has been killed in a plane crash while on a bond tour. The plane went down on a mountaintop in Nevada. Miss Lombard had raised more than two million dollars in bond rallies around the country.”

  Loretta was stunned. Roz and Irene ran to her. They knew what this meant to Loretta, though they never spoke of it in detail.

  Loretta’s first instinct was to go to Clark, to find him, hold and comfort him. She remembered Tom Lewis, and knew she couldn’t.

  “Should we drive out to the ranch?” Roz wondered. She had made two movies with Gable and adored him.

  “Let’s call first,” Irene said.

  “No, there’s nothing we can do for her now. We need to take care of these men,” Loretta said. “We made a promise.”

  Irene and Roz looked at one another.

  “I guess that’s what Carole would do,” Irene said.

  “I’ll call my husband. Freddie will go over to be with Clark,” Roz said.

  Loretta took the stage and made an announcement, “Gentlemen, I’d like us to pray for Carole Lombard. She was grand, talented, and an excellent wife to our good friend Clark Gable. She was also a great American. She served her country splendidly.”

  The entire canteen cheered for Carole Lombard.

  Loretta’s rival Carole really hadn’t been one. Lombard had grabbed Gable as she had grabbed everything in her life—with joy, relish, and determination. Beyond that, Loretta didn’t know what to feel.

  Roz Russell went onstage and took the microphone. “She was a great girl. No one liked to laugh and dance more than Carole. So please, let’s enjoy the band for the rest of the night—let’s celebrate in honor of Carole Lombard.”

  The band began to play, and Loretta remembered her promise to dance with the soldier. She took him by the hand, and they went back to the dance floor.

  Spencer Tracy requisitioned a car to drive him to Las Vegas to be with his friend Gable. As he climbed into the sedan, he was trailed by a group of studio executives, grousing that he was holding up production, but he was intent on his mission.

  He sank low in the back seat, pulled the brim of his fedora over his eyes, and went to sleep.

  At the Las Vegas airport, Spencer climbed out of the car. It was a simple hangar, one that he was familiar with, as they had run drills there for Test Pilot, a film he had made with his friend. There were murmurs and whispers from bystanders as Spence pushed his way through the crowd and into the waiting room before a policeman stopped him.

  “Sir, I have to ask you to wait outside.”

  “Like hell. Tell Gable Spence is here.”

  The cop recognized the actor and let him past the ropes. Tracy took a deep breath as he turned the corner. Gable was standing, looking out the window, his back to the studio flacks who had shown up as soon as word of the plane crash was out. Tracy went to him and put his hand on Gable’s shoulder.

  “Buddy,” Tracy said softly.

  “I told her to wait,” Gable whispered. “But she wanted to get home.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Her mother was with her. And about twenty-five soldiers.”

  “Oh, God,” Tracy muttered.

  “Otto was with them too.”

  Tracy put his arm around Gable. Otto Winker was Gable’s publicist, but he was also his friend.

  “They won’t let me up the mountain.”

  “You shouldn’t go.”

  “But I want to see, with my own eyes. I want to see if they’re telling me the truth.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She was a good girl.”

  “The best.”

  “Never gave me any trouble. She was my life. We laughed all the time.”

  “She loved you.”

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “We wait.” Tracy didn’t have a plan for his friend. That night, all he could do was stand with him. When the park rangers rescue unit arrived, Gable insisted on going with them. Spence felt that Gable should not be alone, so he accompanied him. They loaded into an army jeep and drove up the mountain, as far as they could go, until the snow and rain made it impossible for them to see.

  Gable sat in the front seat and did not say a word as the driver navigated the rough road. Spencer tried to keep the chatter up with the rangers, if only to take pressure off Gable.

  Gable had finally found happiness. He had pursued it ardently, as men do. He was satisfied with Carole; they loved all the same things, and she spun a dream of home life that he had found irresistible. Gable wanted a simple, comfortable, agreeable life. The woman who had provided that lovely life, who had waited for him, suffered through the years of Ria’s waffling, the girl who had made him laugh when he was at his lowest, had left him, having suffered a brutal death, the picture of which he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Carole Lombard, who had brought the light, was now responsible for Clark Gable’s deepest despair.

  Tracy was unable to provide any comfort that night to Gable. He stood by his friend through the worst of it, unable to say or do anything to assuage his grief. Gable would remember little of that night, but when he thought of it, he would remember Spence, who stood by him like the brother he never had. Whatever warmth there was, Tracy provided it, but Gable couldn’t feel it. He watched Gable’s spirit die that night. His soul left him, and behind it was only darkness, and a kind of quiet fury that would mark Gable for the rest of his life.

  Loretta spun around in the chair at the beauty parlor in the Waldorf Astoria and faced her friend Myrna Loy.

  “Hair looks good,” Loretta told Myrna. “You look like a movie star.”

  “Good, maybe I can rattle some of these New York society types to plunk down some money for the boys. How are those nails?”

  “Short. I spent too much time in the garden before we got here.” Loretta looked at her hands. “What time are we due at the Stork Club?”

  “Eight.”

  “It’s gonna be a late night.”

  “Live a little. Your husband’s in California, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “So it’s just us girls.”

  “That’s how I like it, Myrna. Safer that way.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, I invited Mr. Gable up to my suite for drinks.”

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He joined the army.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Yep. Enlisted. Said that�
��s what Carole would have wanted.”

  “But he’s forty-two years old.”

  “They took him.” Myrna looked at her friend. “If it’s too much, if you can’t handle it, I can cancel the drinks.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “You know, I understand.” Myrna sat down next to Loretta. “You’ll never get over him.”

  “I’m married now,” Loretta said firmly.

  “Marriage is one thing, love is another.” Myrna sighed. “I’m taking my third shot at it, so I should know.”

  “Experience counts.” Loretta smiled.

  “Let me ask you something. Are you over him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is Gable out of your blood?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that.”

  “I knew it. He isn’t.”

  “We have a long history, Myrna.”

  “Those are the stories that get you. In real life and the movies.”

  “It hasn’t been anything like a movie. It’s been all too real. Too much pain and compromise and longing, frankly. All of it rolled into one. And I haven’t handled it very well. I tried, but I couldn’t. If you don’t mind, I’ll skip the drinks and meet you at the club.”

  “I’m sorry.” Myrna gave Loretta a hug. “He asked to see you. But I can make up an excuse.”

  “He asked for me?” Loretta’s heart filled with sadness.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Don’t cancel the drinks.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Myrna only ever had one side in a fight. She was on the side of love. She knew it would do Gable good to see Loretta, and she already knew what it meant to Loretta to have been invited.

  Myrna’s suite at the Waldorf was decorated in peach, a perfect backdrop for a classic redhead. There were several flower arrangements set around the room, filled with calla lilies, daisies, and peach roses.

 

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