Tales of a Hollywood Housewife

by Betty Marvin

  “No!

  “Yes! Where have you been?”

  “Oh, look, there’s Daddy!” Claudia called out excitedly.

  We all looked over to the corner booth and saw Lee huddled with the sexy brunette I remembered from Chasen’s. When he spotted us, he got up and made a dash for the emergency exit. The door was locked. He looked like a trapped animal. Reluctantly, he came over to our table before the kids could get to his.

  “What a surprise!” he said, faking composure.

  “Who’s the lady, Daddy?” Claudia said, pointing to his companion, who was slinking down in the other booth.

  “She works with Daddy on the movie.”

  “What does she do with you?”

  Larry gave Lee an icy look. “Yeah, what does she do with you?”

  Lee ignored him and looked at his watch. “Jesus, we’re late. Gotta get back to the set. I’ll call you later, sweetheart.” He leaned down, gave me a kiss, and was out the door, the mystery woman trailing behind.

  Larry could see I was shaken.

  “Everybody go get ice cream,” he said to the kids, handing Christopher a twenty. The kids ran off to the counter.

  “Who is she?” I said.

  “Sorry, Betty. Everyone knows her. She’s a real pro. Beats me how he can play around with a dame who has fucked most of Hollywood when he’s got you and the kids.” I hushed him as the kids returned to the table.

  “Can we go see Daddy play with the lady?” Claudia said.

  “No, darling, time for your nap. We’re going home,” I said.

  21

  Waking Up from a Bad Dream

  A FEW WEEKS later I heard the phone ringing as I came in the side door. I had just returned from my carpool chore, the late afternoon pickup of Christopher from Boy Scouts, Courtenay from her violin lesson, and Cynthia from dance. Chauffeuring children, four of my own and numerous neighbors, seemed an endless task. I raced upstairs to the master bedroom, threw off my coat, kicked off my shoes, and grabbed the phone on my bedside table.

  “Hello,” I said, somewhat out of breath.

  “Betty?”

  I paused, trying to distinguish the caller. “Speaking.”

  “This is Mishell.” This was a strange woman’s voice.

  “Mishell? I’m afraid I don’t know you.”

  “Oh, come on, Betty, you know who I am. I’m Lee’s mistress.”

  I said nothing.

  “Betty, are you there?” she asked after several beats.

  “There must be some mistake. Why are you calling me? What do you want?” I asked, not recognizing my own voice. Hands trembling, heart pounding, I dropped the receiver. My knees collapsed and I sank to the bed. Recovering the phone, I mumbled, “Sorry.” What was I apologizing for? Being out of control? I attempted to regain composure. “But I really don’t know who you are.”

  “Betty, don’t you think it’s time we talk? I’m going to marry Lee. Your marriage is over.”

  Feeling faint, I excused myself and hung up. I don’t know how long I lay on the bed trying to collect my thoughts. It was dark when the children came up to ask about dinner. I heard them, but I couldn’t answer.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” Christopher asked, tenuously. He sounded so small.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” I said. “I’ll be right down.” I pulled myself together, went to the kitchen, and, in a trance, threw together some dinner. The children ate quietly, knowing something was wrong. Afterward, I retreated to my room.

  I lay back down on my bed in the dark and felt nothing. That frightened me. I dreaded the delayed reaction that was bound to come.

  I called Lee’s agent. “Meyer, I’m sorry to bother you, but who is Mishell?”

  “Oh, God, what happened?” he asked.

  “She called here and introduced herself. What’s going on?”

  “Betty, I’m sorry that tramp called you. I’ll call Lee at the studio and he’ll be home soon. Please don’t do anything. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  Almost as soon as I’d hung up, the phone rang again. It was Meyer. “Betty, I talked with Lee and he’ll be home in an hour. He loves you and is very upset that Mishell called. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

  Less than an hour later, I heard Lee’s car pull into the garage. I shuddered. What kind of story is he going to hand me now? I wondered as I came down the stairs. But Lee was silent, eyes downcast. When he finally lifted his head, he murmured, “Please forgive me.” Our eyes locked. All our years together passed between us in one look. We knew the damage had been done.

  “I forgive you,” I said. “But I don’t want you here. You have to go.”

  The beginning of the end

  The next evening I explained to the kids that their father and I had decided to live apart for a while. They seemed sad over the news but did not want to talk about it.

  Life was calmer with Lee out of the house, staying in a motel.The waves stirred only when he’d suddenly stop by. As time went on, the memory of the night we parted seemed to slip from him, and he became more flirtatious, teasing and touching.

  When my father called to tell us he had bought an avocado ranch and moved to San Diego, I told him Lee and I had separated. Daddy jumped into his car and in a few hours was at my door.

  “What time is Lee coming home?” he asked. “I want to talk to him.”

  “I told you, Daddy. Lee’s not living here anymore. We’re separated.”

  “You better think this over, kiddo. Lee’s given you a wonderful life, everything money could buy. What more could you want?” I turned away and stifled a scream. “I need a drink,” he said and went to the bar.

  I followed him. “Daddy, try to get this through your head. If you want to talk to Lee, I’ll give you his number. He is not welcome here anymore.”

  At that moment Lee burst through the door. “Hi, Chief. How’re you doin’?” He came over to give me a kiss. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  I pulled away. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. What are you doing here?”

  Lee looked to Daddy. “She’s mad at me,” he said with a wink. Then he turned back to me. “We’re gonna work it out, aren’t we, baby?”

  I ignored him and turned to my father. “Will you tell him to get out of here and go back to his mistress?”

  “There’s no pleasing some women,” said Lee, reaching for me. “C’mere, baby.”

  I hauled off and hit him. Beng always so well behaved, I shocked myself. But it was a moment I had been waiting for and it felt great.

  “Jesus!” Lee yelled.

  “She can be very temperamental,” my father said as Lee backed out the door.

  The house was too big, too empty, and too quiet for a Sunday. The children had gone to the beach house Lee had bought to spend the day with their father. I missed them and their friends—their squeals and laughter while jumping into the pool, dripping down the back hallway, running showers, snapping towels, and slamming doors. I walked down the hall and peeked into their bedrooms, noticing a stray sock left on the floor, pajamas on the foot of a bed, a game of tic-tac-toe on a closet door blackboard. It was eleven in the morning, and they had been gone a long two hours.

  It would be another six hours until their return. How would I get through the day? My missing them was laced with concern. How would they manage in their father’s care at his beach house? He had never spent one day alone with them. I knew in my heart he was still seeing Mishell. Would she be there? He wouldn’t dare expose them to that trashy dame, would he? What would he do with them all day? I hoped he wouldn’t start drinking. What if a pal dropped by for a beer?

  Trying not to worry, I spent the next hour filling the house with fresh roses from the garden and watering the indoor plants. I looked around at this perfect home for the ideal family. It was all a sham. What a fool I had been for believing my marriage vows.

  I climbed the stairs and went into Lee’s dressing room, something I had done every day for ten years, gath
ering or putting away his laundry. I looked through the French windows down into the beautiful garden with the old oak trees. Strong as an oak, that’s what I must be, I told myself. I turned, opened one of the doors, and pulled out a rack of his beautifully tailored jackets in shades of gray and tan. I fondled the charcoal cashmere and put my cheek to the soft fabric faintly scented with 4711. My tears fell on the sleeve. I embraced the jacket for some time, still feeling my lover’s body inside. Then, like an unwelcome intruder, I withdrew.

  Get out of this house, I told myself. I made several attempts to cover my red, swollen eyes with makeup, finally hiding them behind dark glasses. The phone rang on my way out the door. Let the service get it, I thought, then remembered the children.

  “Hi, sweetheart.” Lee’s familiar voice cut through my heart.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked.

  “Fine. The kids and I thought you might like to come up for lunch.” The invitation was tempting.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I answered.

  There was a pause. “Well, what shall I feed them?”

  Son of a bitch, I thought, he’s looking for a cook. “Oh, God, give them peanut butter sandwiches. Take them out for hamburgers. Figure it out!” I slammed down the phone.

  Driving down San Vincente with the top down, I felt the sun on my back, but my hands were cold as ice. I’ll stop at Brentwood Pharmacy and buy myself a present. It’ll cheer me up. Standing in the perfume section, trying to find a scent that would lift my spirits, I saw Sharley Wynn approaching. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but she moved in and gave me a hug.

  “Oh, darling, I’m so sad about you and Lee.”

  I had nothing to say. I knew Keenan had long been unfaithful to her, but she didn’t seem to care. If only I could be that way, but I knew I couldn’t. I mumbled thanks and got out of there.

  When I arrived home Lee and the kids were waiting for me.

  “Hi, sweetheart, the kids and I want you to come with us to see the sunset.”

  Cornered, I got into the car and we took off. Lee put his hand on my thigh as we drove through the Marina. He drove on to our favorite family restaurant. I wasn’t in the mood for this charade but went along with it for the sake of our children.

  The moment we returned home the kids shouted, “Lassie!” and jumped out of the car, running into the playroom to see their favorite TV program. Once we were alone, Lee took my hand. “I still love you. Please don’t shut me out. I need you and the kids.” His eyes filled with tears. “Please, I beg you, let me come home.”

  “Okay,” I sighed. In spite of the fact I was inviting disaster, I was not yet ready to untie the knot. I still thought of myself as Mrs. Lee Marvin. I needed to be married. I needed to play the successful movie star’s wife. Without that I didn’t know who I was.

  Lee moved back in and his career continued to rise. He won the British Academy Award for The Killers. Shortly thereafter Ship of Fools opened, earning him the National Board of Review of Motion Pictures Best Actor Award. It also brought together the cast, with memories of our summer at the beach. I had a wonderful but brief reunion with Simone.

  Lee was soon sent the script for Cat Ballou. Script reading, boring at best, was not Lee’s thing, so it was usually left to me. He came into the playroom that afternoon and found me laughing out loud as I turned the pages. I grabbed him on his way to the bar. “Okay!” he said, as I pulled him down to sit by me, talking a mile a minute. “Slow down. Mmm, you smell good.” He leaned in for a kiss.

  “Stop. Stop, just for a minute, Lee. You’ve got to do this picture.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s only a little independent flick. There’s no money up front. I’d have to defer my salary. Is this blouse new?” He made for the top button. I pulled back, just a little.

  “Lee, listen. This script is really funny. How often do you get a chance to do a good comedy? And not one character, but two?

  “Okay, okay. Slow down. Let me make a drink and we’ll read it together.” For the next couple of hours we sat curled up with the script, kicking around ideas for his characters, until Lee agreed it was a perfect showcase for him.

  As much as I was involved with his decision to star in the film, he was lost to me once the shooting began. I heard little from him while he was on location, except for a few drunken phone calls. Cat Ballou was tailor-made for him, the lead character being an outrageous, lovable drunk. He was barely sober throughout the two-week shoot.

  When he returned from location, things seemed fine, for a little while. Lee continued to drink but was loving to me and doted on the children—when he saw them. I had started to make peace with taking him back into our home when one afternoon he called me up into the master bedroom, bathed in sunlight streaming through the bay window.

  “This is nothing personal, Betty.” He stared out at the garden. “But I don’t want to be married anymore.”

  I was stunned. We sat in silence for some time before I spoke. “I wish I had known about this four kids ago.”

  “These things happen, sweetheart. It’s nobody’s fault. You’re a terrific wife and a wonderful mother. I just don’t want to be married.”

  Lee kills the marriage

  Something in me finally snapped. Full of rage, I jumped up and started throwing everything I could get my hands on.

  “Wait a minute. Calm down, will ya?” he pleaded as he ducked and dodged.

  “Get out!” I yelled. “Take your stuff and get out of my house.”

  “Wait a minute! This is my house too!” he yelled, retreating.

  “Not anymore. Out! Get out, you son of a bitch!”

  He left the room and moved back into his place at the beach.

  22

  The Final Big Blow

  STRANGELY, I HAD a sense of relief that something that had been over a long time ago was finally ending. But telling the kids again was hard.

  “Are we going to stay in the house?” Christopher asked. “Will we see Dad?”

  “Of course you will. Things won’t change that much.”

  “Dad’s never here anyway,” Courtenay said.

  “Shut up, Courtenay! Dad’s not here because he’s working to support us!” Christopher shouted.

  “Christopher, don’t say ‘shut up’ to your sister,” I interrupted. “Now, let’s all calm down. It’s not a happy time, but we’re going to be fine. We all have to help each other.”

  “Mommy, may I have more dessert?” Claudia said, seemingly oblivious.

  “I’ll get it,” said Cynthia, her constant helper.

  I could hardly wait to get to bed.

  I was determined to get rid of the mink coat plus the diamond and a few other expensive gifts Lee had given me over the years. The multi-diamond ring was a cinch. When the cleaning crew came, it disappeared with the dust, and I collected the insurance. Unloading the coat was not so easy. I took it everywhere, usually dragging it behind me, just to leave it, lose it, or have it stolen. No luck. Restaurants, hotels, airports, cabs always sent it back. Finally I put it at the back of my closet, out of sight and out of mind.

  Lee continued to drop by whenever he felt like it, to use the phone or john or to raid the refrigerator. I was fed up with these impromptu visits but wasn’t sure what to do about it. Whenever I confronted him, he’d either laugh it off or blow up in anger, which frightened the kids. The rules I had laid down to protect my privacy were ignored.

  Christmas was around the corner, but the kids argued against going away, hoping instead to spend the holidays with their friends. I was torn, wanting to keep them happy, yet needing a break from Latimer Road. I was at the tennis courts, my usual haunt, and ran into Hal Holbrook. He mentioned he was looking for a house to rent while relocating from New York.

  “Why don’t you take my place?” I said.

  “I didn’t know it was available.”

  “Oh, I’ve been thinking about the kids and I spending a few months at the beach.” I didn�
��t want to get into the details of Lee and myself. I took Hal back to the house and showed him around. We agreed he could move in the following week.

  Our move fell into place quickly. Dan O’Herlihy offered me his home in Malibu Colony for six months while he went east to do a play. When I went to check it out, I felt a sense of security as I gave my name to the patrol outside the gated community, with its private street and tennis courts. I walked around his three-story sunlit house, hearing the waves hit the shore outside, and imagined the kids and me living there, our first home without Lee. The comfortable, casual living room with overstuffed sofas and glassed-in porch to the beach was inviting. The master suite and three bedrooms on the second floor offered me privacy, yet kept me close to the girls. I would give Christopher the third floor so he could have his newly formed rock band practice without driving the rest of us crazy. It seemed like a good move, even though it was temporary.

  When the kids came home from school, I broke the news.

  “This way you can have a holiday on the beach with your pals. You have friends living in the Colony.”

  “What about when school starts?” they asked.

  “I’ll arrange a car pool with other students going to Oakwood. Christopher, you can go to Malibu High for a semester if you want.”

  Nobody really argued very much. Within a week, Hal was living in our house, and the kids and I had packed a few things and moved to Malibu. A lightness of being settled over us for those first quiet days.

  The following week, the Oscar nominations for 1965 were announced. It had been a huge year for Lee: Ship of Fools was nominated for Best Film, among many other nominations for the picture, and to everyone’s surprise, Lee received his first Academy Award nomination for Best Actor, for his work in Cat Ballou.

  Hal called me from the Latimer Road house. It seems Lee had walked in, unannounced as always, and found Hal in the playroom. Hal explained that I’d rented him the place to him and had moved to the beach. Hal said Lee had seemed surprised, and he hoped it was all right that he’d given him my address. I said it was fine, knowing it was just a matter of time before Lee caught up with me.