21

THE MOVIE

The flickering image on the silver screen reveals iconic views of Hollywood streets and soundstages, and then it cross-fades to the desk calendar again, the pages of months ripping away—October and November 1948, leaving December in place.

“I finally went to the doctor,” the actress’s voice-over continues. “He confirmed my worst fears. At the same time, The Outlaw Lovers was rushed through postproduction so that it could be released in time for the Christmas holidays. The Love of a Killer was starting to appear on some critics’ Top Ten lists of ’48. Right after the New Year, I was supposed to start shooting another picture, The Boss and the Blonde, with none other than James Cagney as my costar. But I was frightened. It could all come crashing down.”

The camera slowly pulls in to a nighttime exterior shot of Blair’s house in Sugar Hill, focusing on the illuminated bedroom window … and we, ever the voyeurs, penetrate the glass and invade a couple’s privacy in a way that can only happen in a motion picture.

“You’re being awfully quiet tonight,” Hank said as they lay on their backs, cigarettes in their hands. When she didn’t answer, he spoke again. “Is anything wrong?”

Blair sighed. “Oh, Hank. I have something to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

She raised herself up on her side, supported by her elbow. The mattress’s box springs creaked loudly. She had been meaning to buy a new one for some time.

“I’m going to have a baby.”

Hank blinked in succession a couple of times, his eyes on her. Then he smiled. “Really?”

“Yes. You remember when I kept getting nauseous a month or a month and a half ago? Well, it wasn’t the flu; it was morning sickness. Morning sickness that lasted until noon. When it went away, I forgot about it and ignored it. But then, well, I’m a woman, you know, and we know when things start happening to our bodies. I was afraid, Hank. Is it terrible that I didn’t want it to be true?”

“Blair, honey—”

“No, don’t answer that. Anyway, I waited until last week to go to the doctor. That’s when I finally got it confirmed. I’m pregnant, Hank. Two and a half months, maybe three.”

Hank took a drag off his cigarette and then said, “Sweetheart, I think I’m smart enough to know that it could be upsetting to you no matter how I respond. Inside, truthfully, I’m jumping for joy. My heart is jivin’ and dancing and singing. I want to break out the champagne and celebrate. But then, I look at you now, and I see how you feel about it. I can tell that this doesn’t make you very happy. And I understand. I know why. And I’m fully aware of what this means for us. So that’s why I’m not acting like a fool and running around crying, ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Praise the Lord.’ Because that would upset you even more, wouldn’t it?”

She chuckled a little. “Yes, it would. Although it might also make me laugh.”

His eyes twinkled at the easing of her tension. “I do hope I can say that you make me proud, and that I love you more than anything else God put on this earth.”

“Yes, you can say that, and I love you, too.” She sat up and stubbed the butt out in the ashtray on the nightstand. “But we have to face facts. This is not a good thing for us, Hank.”

“No, I suppose not.”

She looked off, away from him. “Should I … should I get rid of it?”

Hank reached over to his nightstand and put out the remains of his own cigarette. He then sat up behind her and took her in his arms. “Honey, I would never tell you what you should do about this. Just know that I will stand by you. I will give you my opinion, for whatever that’s worth, and I will give you my advice, which ain’t worth nothin’, and I will give you my support, which I hope might be of some value to you.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to go about it. I mean, there are other actresses who have … I’d have to ask someone …”

Hank cleared his throat. “I know a doctor. He’s … he’s a Negro doctor. He’s a good man; he knows what he’s doing.”

Tears formed in her eyes and slowly trickled down her cheeks. They were silent for a few moments, and then she slowly shook her head. “I don’t think I can. I can’t do it, Hank. I can’t get rid of our baby.” She turned to face him. “The law is changed in California. We can get married. We can have our child.”

“But honey, what about your career? Legal or not, the studio won’t stand for their star actress to marry a Negro.”

“Well … I’ll just have to give up acting, then.”

“Give it up?”

“Hank, they’re not letting me do the kinds of roles I really want. I’m sick of playing these bad girl parts. I’ve asked over and over if I could be in a comedy, or a musical … anything but a crime picture. Eldon Hirsch won’t loan me out to other studios—they’ve asked and he’s always refused. It’s like he’s punishing me for not going to bed with him.”

“You don’t really want to give up being in movies, Blair. I know you. This is your life.”

She stood and started to pace. “But I would if it means keeping you and the baby. Other interracial couples are getting married since the law changed.”

“We couldn’t travel out of state as a man and wife. We’d have to always stay in California.”

“So? Where else are we going to go? We could move out of Los Angeles and go somewhere else in the state. San Francisco’s a nice place.”

“How will we live? My work is here, honey. I have a pretty good thing going with my band and all. It’s hard to start all over again as a musician in a new town.”

“I know. I’d get a job.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know! Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“I’m not trying to do anything, honey. I’m just showing you all the angles.”

“Well, are you willing to do this with me? Do you want to get married?”

Hank got out of bed and came to her. Once again, he took her in his arms. “Sugar, I want to marry you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want to see you turn your back on a successful career.”

“To hell with it, Hank. For all the fame and money and glamour and glitz, there’s something rotten to the core about it all. I’ve been thinking about this for days. I do want out.”

“Well, then, I guess that settles it.” He got down on one knee with her hands in his. “Will you live with me so we can make our own blues in the dark? Will you marry me, Blair Kendrick?”

She laughed and got down on the carpet with him. “Of course, I will.” They kissed and toppled over on their sides, laughing. After a moment, she said, “How about this? I make The Boss and the Blonde—I mean, how many times does a girl get to do a movie with Jimmy Cagney? That should be finished by February, and then we’ll do it. I don’t care if I’m showing. Then we’ll see what happens. Maybe nobody will say a damned thing and we can continue as we were. They can’t fight the law. On the other hand, if we get run out of town, so be it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said.

After the rather quiet New Year, Blair reported to the set for the first day of shooting of The Boss and the Blonde. She had been studying lines the previous evening and was having difficulty memorizing them. Her mind was elsewhere. Nevertheless, she was ready to get started. She knew the lines would come; they always did. Her meeting with costar James Cagney the day before had gone very well. He seemed to be enthusiastic about the picture and said that he looked forward to working with her.

She sat in front of the mirrors in the dressing room, the bulbs brightly lit around her. Zelda came in with her makeup box. “Here we are again!” she chirped. “How are you this morning, Blair?”

“Fine, Zelda, and you?”

“Oh, just peachy.” She squealed a little. “I just met Jimmy Cagney! Oh, my heart’s all a-flutter. That was sure exciting.”

“He’s very nice, isn’t he?”

Blair sat in the high chair while Zelda applied the pancake base. As she did, Blair held the script in her lap, going over the dialogue again.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Blair said.

Buddy Franco, dressed in his trademark suit, appeared in the doorway. Blair thought that the temperature in the room might have dropped ten degrees. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said. “Zelda, can I talk to Blair alone for a minute?”

“Sure.” Zelda put down her brush, wiped her hands on a towel, and left the room. Franco shut the door and stood in front of Blair.

“What is it, Buddy?” she asked.

“You ready to start shooting?”

“Of course.”

“Good, good. This is a big one. Eldon’s very excited about it. Jimmy Cagney and all.”

“I am, too. What do you want, Buddy? I need to concentrate on these lines.”

“Well, I hate to bring this up again, but it seems that a certain Negro was seen coming out the back door of your house the other morning.”

Blair stiffened.

“You’ve been warned about this before. This is the last time I’m going to say it.” He placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned in so close that she couldn’t have squirmed out if she’d wanted. “Blair, you have to stop seeing the—uh, I can’t be responsible for what happens to him … or to you … if you don’t. I’ve been instructed to take the matter into my hands again, and I will. So, tell me now. I want to hear it from you. Is it over?”

Blair’s heart pounded in her chest.

“Is it over?”

“Buddy. I’m about to start shooting an important picture. You said so yourself. Why do you want to come in here and try to scare me? I don’t know what you think you’ve seen or who told you what. Now, get out of here. I need to work on these lines. I don’t want to have to talk to Eldon about this.”

“Eldon’s not going to take your side anymore, honey. He’s the one who told me to come in here and … talk to you.”

Blair swallowed. The only thing she could do was to lie. After all, she was an actress.

“It’s over,” she said. “Now go away.”

He released his hands from the chair and stood straight. “All right then.”

“And if I catch anyone spying on me at my house,” she added, “I’m calling the police.”

He smiled in his oily way. “You do that.” He opened the door and called. “Zelda? She’s all yours.”

When the makeup girl returned, Blair was crying.

“Oh, honey!” Zelda gasped. “What happened?”

“Could you give me a minute or two, please, Zelda?”

“Uh, sure. I’ll be outside if you need me. Can I get you anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

Zelda tentatively moved back to the open door and waited.

“It’s all right,” Blair said. “Just give me a minute.”

“Okay.” The door shut, and then Blair threw the script across the room.