T he sidewalk was slippery from last night’s intermittent rain that froze as it hit the ground. My head pounded reminding me that I had had too much to drink. I was on a mission to make gays free and equal with everybody else. At least that’s what I thought last night when my head was filled with booze and—her. Her face, her voice, her smile, her aura.
This morning I was merely late for Max’s meeting. I would avoid his Haven budget questions.
I tripped going up the steps to the club and landed on my keister. Giorgio rushed over to me. “Missy Al! Are you all-a-right? Wet. The steps. They are wet. I help you.” He put out his arm and I took it.
“I’m okay, Giorgio,” I leaned on his arm and got up. I was fine, but he insisted on helping me to the door despite there being no ice under the canapé. I doubt this family-loving new grandpa would ever suspect I was hung-over from the night before.
I pushed through my office door and collapsed into my desk chair, my head throbbing. Her voice floated back to me. “Once I had a secret love…”
I hadn’t stayed to hear the whole thing, but through my mind drifted that final line, “At last my heart’s an open book and my secret love’s no secret anymore.” In the cold morning light, it still is my biggest secret, but someday…
Early this morning, before I left for the Olympus, I got in touch with Jason Wingreen to see if there would be a room where we could hold our first New York Mattachine meeting. Jason was on the board of an off-Broadway theater. He was also the founder of the theater with five or six other people. I met him when the theater was reviving a production of Summer & Smoke . It did so poorly on Broadway I couldn’t understand why they would revive it in their little financially shaky almost unknown theater, so I went to rehearsal to see what Jose Quintero was doing with it. I met Tennessee Williams that day and that little theater turned that play into a giant hit, and they were on their way. Jason was doing television now along with remaining on the board of that theater. He had to pay the bills. He wasn’t gay, but most of his friends in the theatre were. He loved the idea of having the Mattachine meetings at his theater and so did the rest of the board. We were set.
I picked up a few of the afternoon papers Lucille had lain on my desk.
“Al,” Lucille came running into my office. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, nifty keen.”
“What’s wrong?” Lucille came close to me, looking into my eyes. “You don’t look so good.”
“Can’t you recognize a darn hangover when you see one?” I snapped.
Lucille stepped back. “Oh. Sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I had a difficult night, but it was
sorta good too. Max here yet?”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. He got here before I did, and you know I’m
always here long before everybody. Well, today, he was pacing, griping, mumbling and wondering where you were and mad because I wasn’t here to make everything right for him.”
“He knew where I was last night. He should’ve known I wouldn’t come in here
all bright eyed and bushy tailed at the crack of dawn. Is he in his office now?”
“No. He stormed out. Didn’t say anything to me.”
“Good. I’m not ready to see him anyway.”
“If he comes in, I’ll give you a heads up.”
“Thanks.”
She left my office closing the door. I sat back in my chair looking up at the ceiling despite my throbbing head. I drifted back to Sardis and I heard her singing, “When I fall in love…” That song’s not the best for her voice. She has much more power to her voice than Doris Day. But—I loved hearing her sing it. It was for me. I know it. Don’t I?
Max pushed open my door, no knock, his hair a disheveled mess, no tie to cover
his wrinkled, jacketless white shirt.
“Where were you this morning?”
“And where were you last night when I needed an escort? What cute young
thing was you out with?”
“Virginia.”
“What?”
“Virginia.”
“Why would you be out with Virginia, especially when I needed you?”
He sat in the chair next to my desk. My phone rang. I slid the earring off my phone ear and picked up. “Yeah, Lucille? Put her on.” I covered the mouthpiece with my hand. “I have to take this. Won’t be long. Freddie, yeah? Sure, you can give her my number. She’s there now? Put her on.” Covering the mouthpiece again, I whispered to Max, “Sorry. Important.”
He nodded, unconvinced.
“Hi, Sally,” I poured charm into my voice. “No, not doing anything important.”
Max gave me the evil eye.
“What ya want, doll? Yeah. Sure, I can do that. The Bagatelle tonight? After? No your place wouldn’t be such a good idea.” Sally and I laughed, while Max slammed the palm of his hand onto the top of my desk. “There must be some place where we can have some—” I whispered, “privacy…” I looked over at Max who was staring at me, drumming his fingers against the top of my desk.
He twirled his hand in a circle. “Al! Wrap it!” he commanded.
“Look Sal, I’ve got a cranky boss here who needs my attention. I’ll see ya tonight. Yeah, I’ll figure out a place where we can—well, you know.”
I hung up the phone. “I appear to have a date.”
“Whoop-de-doo for you. Do you think you can fit in time from your busy social life to save this club from going under? Otherwise, how will you pay for this wildlife you seem to want?”
“I’m saving The Haven. Isn’t that enough?”
“Where were you this morning? We had a scheduled meeting at nine for you to fill me on how the Haven show is going. You’re opening is this month.”
“I know. I’ve got it all worked out. Gosh, I sure wished that was true. I saw the queens walkin’ outta the Haven. I saw them disappearing behind the buildings. “I got a little hitch…”
“Hitch? What hitch? What? What?”
“It’s nothing. I’ve got it all under control. Jeepers, trust me, will ya?”
“I got wise guys nosing around this place and I’m sure they’re taking measurements and soon…”
“It’s going to be fine. I just need to work a couple things out. Trust me, will ya?”
“I do, I do, but a success with The Haven can shore up the Mt. Olympus for a while until we get back on our feet. But okay, okay, if you say everything’s ready to go at the Haven—If he knew they all walked out last week—I wanted to get your opinion about Virginia.”
“Virginia?” I let my breath seep out slowly, afraid Max would see my relief that he changed the topic. “Well, it does seem rather strange that you were out last night with Virginia. Are you sure that’s not code for some new fling you…?”
“This isn’t a joke. Virginia came over to our place after you left. She didn’t want you to see her there.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted to ask me something that she didn’t want you to know about.”
“And now you’re gonna tell me what she didn’t want me to know?”
“Of course.”
“Isn’t that unethical?”
“I s’pose, but you know how to be unethical without upsetting anyone.”
“Gee, thanks. I’ll have you know I pride myself on my ethics. I am a very ethical person and I resent you implying…”
“I didn’t imply anything. I said it right out. It’s one of your qualities I most admire.”
“What? I can’t believe you’re saying …”
“Just shut up a minute, so I can tell you what Virginia said and my dilemma about it?”
“Okay. But take back about me being unethical.”
“I take it back. On bended knee I take it back. You are the most ethical person I know. Now , will you listen? And help me?”
“Yes. Thank you. But do you really think I’m unethical.”
“NO! Now, it’s my turn. You know that ashtray I keep on my coffee table, the lopsided dried clay one?
“Yes. Virginia’s daughter, Joan, made it for you as a child.”
“You know. Then you know Virginia had a child out of wedlock?”
“She told me years ago. Sometime during the war when I was helping her move into your old apartment on MacDougal Street.”
“Well, if you know already then telling you the rest can’t be unethical.”
“If that’s it, then I already know. She told me herself. Ethics has nothing to do with it.”
“There’s more to it. Something’s come up. Uh—Virginia’s had one of those milestone birthdays this year. She turned fifty.”
“Really? Wow, she’s getting old.”
“Don’t you dare let her hear you say that. And since I’m coming right up behind her she is not getting old; she’s getting experienced. You’ll understand in another fifteen or twenty years. Her age has nothing to directly do with this issue, but she thinks it does. She wants to meet with her daughter in person.”
“And you think that wouldn’t be good for Joan, that it would disrupt Joan’s life too much.”
“That’s good. See? You’ve done it already.”
“Done what?”
“I can say what you just said.”
Well, that is what the authorities say.”
“You read what authorities say on adoption?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“It’s interesting.”
“No, it’s not. You’re a very strange person, but right now I’m glad you are. Tell me more about what adoption authorities say.”
“If a child is adopted the mother who bore the child should stay out of it.”
The child should stay fully integrated into the adoptive family and show appreciation to that family. The child should forget about the mother who gave birth.”
“They say that? You could tell Virginia that and I’d be off the hook.”
“What hook? What are you talking about?”
“When Virginia first found out she—well she was going, uh, she was…”
“Pregnant?”
“Oh, gosh, no! That’s a horrible word! You should never say that word in front of me. You and I are mixed company. What’s that other name for what we’re talking about?”
“Uh, I don’t… In a family way?”
“Perfect! When she was in a family way…”
“Kinda old fashioned.”
“Shh. I gotta tell you. When Virginia first found out she was in a family way she told me. I happened to know this family out in Pennsylvania on a farm who couldn’t have children, so I set things up.”
“How did you know a family like that?”
“When I was just starting out, I took a show on the road and they came to see it. They were real warm, kind people and invited the cast to Sunday dinner after church. I had a terrific time with them. I always wanted to pay them back for that so when Virginia was in a family way…”
“You set it up. A perfect arrangement for both parties. Virginia told me you were the only one who knew where Joan was, and you would visit her from time to time. The kid called you Uncle Max and made you that ashtray. But you had this deal with Virginia that you would never tell her where her daughter was.”
“Virginia sure didn’t leave anything out and what a memory you have.”
“It’s not that much to remember, Max. And I found it fascinating. You as Uncle Max?”
“You got everything perfect, except…”
“Except?”
Max stood and wiped his hands along the back of his pants. “Uh… Virginia wants to know where her daughter is now. She wants to write Joan a letter and ask her if she would want to meet her real mother. You see, Joan is an adult now and Virginia figures Joan could make her own decision… But from what you’ve read—even when they’re adults they shouldn’t have contact with the real mother, right?”
“Yeah. But there are a few exceptions…”
“I don’t want to hear about those.”
“But most think the adopted child even as an adult should be grateful to the parents they have and forget about the one that gave birth to them?”
“Yes. That’s it.” I said.
“You could go out to eat with Virginia somewhere. Schraffts! She likes Schrafft’s. A very lady’s restaurant. Tell her what those authorities say.”
“Why would I do that? She’s not gonna ask me about it. She asked you. What’s really going on Max?”
Max sat down. “When Ethel was…”
“Who’s Ethel?”
“Oh. That’s Joan’s legal name that the family gave her. It’s on her birth certificate. When Joan was fifteen the family moved away.”
“And?”
“They wouldn’t tell me where they were going. They didn’t want any connection with Joan’s past. Joan—Ethel doesn’t know she’s adopted. I promised Virginia that I would keep visiting Joan, but after her fifteenth birthday I couldn’t. She didn’t live on that farm anymore.” He rubbed his forehead. “Oh, god, Al, what am I gonna do?”
“It’s not your fault they moved away and didn’t want to tell you where they were going. Just tell Virginia.”
“Just tell her? What am I supposed to say? Oh, guess, what Virginia? Along life’s journey I misplaced your daughter. I’ve tried to tell her hundreds of times, but whenever I open my mouth to say it, nothing comes out. Then it got worse. Virginia would ask me things and… I’d tell her growing up stories about Joan.”
“Max are you saying you—made up Joan’s life?”
“Well, kinda.”
“Oh, Max.”
“I know. I know. It was a horrible thing to do, but Virginia was hungry for news about Joan. And she expected it since that’s what I did for the first fifteen years of her life. At first it was just little things like she was taking tap dancing lessons when she was sixteen. Virginia always admired the theater so I thought a little theatrics in her daughter might…”
“It didn’t stop there, did it?”
“No. Joan was the star of all her high school plays, chosen for the cheerleading squad, was president of her class, graduated with honors. “
“Oh, Max.”
“Well—Virginia always felt so unpopular that I thought maybe through her daughter…” He looked at me hopefully. “Maybe?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head.
“Well, she had a beautiful high school graduation with expensive presents.” Max said as if I’d been accusing him of being cheap. “A car! None of her farm-type friends got a car for graduation. And she was chosen as the most popular and most attractive in her yearbook.”
“Didn’t Virginia wanna see the pictures?”
“Of course! And I wanted to show them to her, but I couldn’t exactly take the kid’s yearbook out of the house. Look, I know it was terrible telling her these stories, but if you were there, if you could’ve seen Virginia. The glow. You know how depressed she’d get at times through the years, well these stories made Virginia happy. Like she had done the right thing by providing Joan with this nice home to grow up in. They made her feel less guilty about the whole mess. So how could telling these stories be wrong? Oh, you should’ve seen the wedding. It was spectacular.”
“What? No college?”
“Her father’s a working man, a laborer. He couldn’t afford such a thing.”
“But he could afford a ‘spectacular’ wedding?”
“Well, I helped him some.”
“I’d say you helped him a lot. How nice of you.”
“Daisies and roses covered every inch of the church.”
“It must’ve been hard to sit down.”
“The flowers weren’t on the pews!” He jumped up, frustrated with my thick-headedness. “They were everywhere else. And her gown, Al—of course, I know, you’re not into fashion—but it couldn’t have been more beautiful than if I’d made it myself.”
“Max, you did!”
“Huh? Oh, you mean, uh, yes.... Still, it was beautiful. And the way Joan walked with such grace down the aisle toward the altar, her young man breathlessly waiting. Oh, and what a looker he was. Tall, slender, good muscle tone. Dark hair with a tan, high cheekbones, a white tuxedo.”
“Just the way you like them.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “No! Don’t be disgusting. That young man was Joan’s husband. I would never think of him that way. After they said their vows hundreds of doves were released into the air.” He threw his arms up, watching them go. “Virginia cried when I told her about the doves and her daughter and her new husband running from the church getting into the ‘Just Married’ limousine. I must say I got a little teary-eyed myself.”
“Max, I’m afraid to ask, but—does Virginia have grandchildren?”
“No!”
I sighed. “Well, at least you stopped there.”
“Grandchild . Only one. A sweet little girl who sometimes sits on her Uncle Max’s lap.”
“Max! Come back to earth. You’ve been lying to Virginia for, for… how old is Joan now?”
“Twenty-six.”
“For eleven years!”
“All right! All right!” He paced. “Everything was going just fine. I was making Virginia happy. I was happy. And then she gets it into her head that she needs to see Joan, to be a part of her life after all these years. She’s spoiling everything!”
“Don’t you dare blame this on Virginia.”
“Al, take her out to lunch and tell her. On me.”
“What do I have to do with it? You just want me to tell her in public so she can’t hit me. But after what you’ve done, I’m not so sure she won’t hit anything available, which will be me.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t. She’s not a violent woman.”
“I’m considering holding you down and helping her.”
“You’ll talk to her, won’t you? Tell her about how it’s not good to contact kids who’ve been adopted. I know she wouldn’t want to do anything that could hurt Joan.”
“And why would I do this for you?”
“Because you’re a good and gentle person who’s very ethical and would never want to see Virginia hurt and I’m a clumsy oaf.”
“You got anything more motivating than that?”
“I have a friend with pied à terre in the Village. He hardly ever uses it. And I know he’s not using it tonight.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because he’s going to be with me.”
He reached into his pants pocket and dangled keys in front of me. “I believe you’re in need of an appropriate private meeting place for you and one of your young ladies. It’s right on Christopher Street. A cozy one room. Quite pleasant.”
I wanted those keys. I wanted them bad. But could I do this? “Max, Virginia’s gonna be miserable.”
“I know. But you can make it easier on her. You have a way with people. You’ll do it, won’t you?” He kept holding the keys in front of me.
“You’re gonna have to make it up to her somehow.”
“Anything. I’ll do anything so she won’t completely hate me. What do you think I need to do to make it right with her?”
“Marry her.”
“What?”
“I’ll invite her out later this week.” I reached for the keys.
He snatched them back from my grasp.
“No, today. Look at me. I’m a mess. I can’t have our meeting looking like this. My shirt is wrinkled, my tie’s the wrong color.”
“But today’s meeting is just you and me.”
“I still have to follow a certain decorum. I’m not a complete boob.
“Who says?”
“We can have our meeting later this week. Oh, and there’s one other teensy little thing. You have to be out of this guy’s place before ten. He’s bringing his wife by to see it at 11:30 and she’s very prompt.”
“His wife? But I thought you and he…”
“Yes?”
“Nothing.”
Max pushed the sleeve of his cuff away from his watch. “Virginia’ll be here soon.” He dropped the keys on my desk plotter.
“What?”
“I told her she could come by the Mt. Olympus today and we’d finish our talk about Joan.”
“But what you really meant was I’d finish your talk about Joan. You’re coming with me.”
* * *
“Milestone?” Virginia moaned as we sat in Schraffts’ upstairs dining room. “Did he say that.” She pulled at each finger of her beige gloves until she slid them off. “It’s more like a millstone around my neck. Another step toward the grave.” She wore a round hat which matched her pale blue suit. The feather on her hat shook as she spoke as if agreeing with everything she said. I thought the silver fox stole, though, was a bit much on such a sassy spring day. “You’re still a kid. You can’t understand what another birthday means.”
“I’m not a kid. I’ll be thirty-four in in May.”
“A baby,” Virginia said.
“I’m not much older than that myself,” Max said.
“No one here is going to believe that lie so give it up.” Virginia snapped. “You were a wreck when you turned forty and you’re older than that now.”
“Hey!” He sat straight in his chair. “You want a bull horn so you can announce it to the whole restaurant? I have a dashing young buck reputation to protect.”
Virginia shook her head. “He’ll be saying that when he’s ninety. I’m not sure why you’re here, Al, but I don’t mind. You already know about my—my daughter, Joan.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve decided to see her.”
“Have you spoken to Joan? Does she want to meet you?”
“No, of course, I haven’t spoken to her. I don’t know where she is.”
“And that’s what we agreed was best for the child twenty-six years ago,” Max said. “Think of the child.” He hammered a fist on the table.
“She is no longer a child. She’s a married woman with her own child. Do you expect me to die without ever seeing my child or grandchild? Oh, when I think of seeing them my heart fills with such love. There’s a fulfillment, I think, in having a child, no matter by what means she comes into the world. And then to watch your very own child—my child goes on to raise her own. Getting to see the generations. I wish my father was here to see this. He’d be so proud.”
“Do you really think so,” Max said. “He stopped talking to you when he found out you were expecting.”
“Well people grow. Maybe his love for me and a chance to hold his granddaughter would have softened his heart.”
“Ha!” Max said loudly.
“Max,” I said, “No.”
“Thank you, Al,” Virginia said, wiping away a tear with her handkerchief.
“I still have a little money. I’m going to set up a trust fund for the little one, for Christine, but they call her Chrissy. I could guide her in choosing the proper college. I wonder if she’d want to follow her grandmother and go to Bryn Mawr, too? Of course, I had to drop out because, well, because my daughter was… I was expecting her, but I might be able to help my granddaughter get in and…”
I became mesmerized by Virginia’s dream of her family while Max nodded furiously at me, mouthing, “Say something. Say something.”
“What is wrong with you?” Virginia asked Max. “Are you having some kind of fit?”
“I haven’t had much sleep.” He made a big show of yawning.
“You know, Virginia,” I began. “I’ve read up on this topic and most authorities agree the best thing for the adopted person, whether they’re a child or an adult, is to embrace the adoptive family.”
“And what do they say, Miss Smarty Pants, is best for the mother who gave birth to that child?”
“They don’t say. They just advise against interfering in the child’s life.”
The waitress stood behind us balancing our luncheon dishes on her arm. “I believe you get the assorted tea sandwiches with a sweet pickle medley.” She placed the dish in front of Virginia. As the oldest woman she was being served first. “And you, ma’am,” she said to me, “get the nut bread with cottage cheese and fig sandwich.” She placed the plate in front of me. “And the gentleman still doesn’t care for anything?”
“Just refill my martini.” He handed her his empty glass.
“Yes, sir.”
“Look,” Max said, “We agreed a long time ago and it’s been working out.”
“Working out for you .” Virginia said firmly.
“Well, I’ve tried to help you with her over the years. I found the family for her and they love her very much. She’s well cared for, Virginia.”
“You can’t possibly know how it feels to be a mother.” She gripped her blouse near her heart. “The loss, the longing, the wondering. And the pain, Max. Every single day. As I get older it gets worse.”
“You never told me,” Max said, his face distraught.
“How could I? You have been such a dear, helping me through the years. I didn’t want to appear ungrateful.”
He leaned closer to her. “I never thought you ungrateful.”
“Well, the latest thinking in this area,” I piped in, “is that adoptive children’s records should remained sealed. It’s the law. The children should never know who their natural parents are. It’s for the child’s own good.”
“Why? How could that ever be a good thing for anyone?” Virginia demanded
“Yes, why?” Max wanted to know.
I turned a quizzical eye on him. What was he doing? I turned back to Virginia. “Well, it is the adoptive parents who gave the child everything: food, shelter, love. What does the natural parent have to do with it?”
“Al! I never expected you to say something so cruel,” Virginia shot back
“Cruel?” I said, “It’s just truth. Ethel…”
“Joan!”
“Joan, then, is just an idea to you, not a person.”
“You have never had a child.” Tears bubbled up in the rims of her eyes. “You can’t know what I feel. The ache of loss, the not knowing. Max! Tell me how she is! Where she is! Let’s go there this weekend.”
“This weekend?” Max looked at me with horror in his eyes. “Uh, we can’t. Some time we can, but…”
“Max, stop it,” I said. “This can’t go on. I’m going to tell her now.”
“No. Please no,” Max begged.
“Tell me what? Has something happened? Is Joan hurt or…? Oh, no, she isn’t…?”
“No! My gosh, no,” I said, “She’s fine,” believing that at first and then knowing I didn’t know that. None of us did.
Virginia took several deep breaths. “Oh, I thought… Well, what are you two talking about?”
I looked at Max. He sighed, nodded at me and began, “Virginia, I haven’t told you this because I knew it would upset you, but… I haven’t seen Joan in years.”
“What? You promised. You’re her Uncle Max.”
“Yes.” He took in a chest full of air. “But when she was fifteen the family moved away.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re supposed to know!” she shouted.
“Virginia, we’re in Shraft’s,” I reminded her.
“I don’t care.” She pointed a finger at Max. “You promised.”
“I tried, Virginia. The father got a new job. They sold the farm. What was I going to say? ‘You can’t move because Virginia won’t like it. The child was theirs. You signed papers. There was no way to keep them.”
“You could have at least gotten their new address.”
“They wouldn’t give it to me. They wanted no more connection with the girl’s past. They wanted to feel she was completely theirs. We parted peacefully.”
“Peacefully? Isn’t that just fine and dandy for you? You should have fought for her.”
“Virginia,” I said, softly, “Max feels really awful about this, but there’s nothing to be done.”
“Wait a minute,” Virginia said. “All the stories. You told me about Joan’s life as she was growing up. You must’ve been in touch with her. You saw her and brought me stories about her, so you had to be seeing her. We sat together sometimes on my couch, sometimes on yours and you told me…”. Max’s hands were in his lap, his shoulder bowed; he looked like a small boy waiting to be punished by his mother. “Oh, god.” As reality hit her, she held her hands to her mouth. Max and I waited. Slowly she let her hands fall from her lips. She spoke as if her mind was on Novocain. “The stories. The stories you told me. About winning the Pennsylvania statewide spelling bee and being the star of the school plays… Lies? Everything a lie?”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you happy.”
“Happy? You think lies could make me happy?” She pushed her chair away from the table, gripped her handbag and grabbed her coat from the coat rack; she headed for the stairs.
“Go after her, Al. She might do something crazy.”
I dashed to the stairs where Virginia stood gripping the handrail, looking down at the steps, not moving.
“Virginia are you all right,” I whispered.
Without looking at me she said, “You know, Al, for a smart girl, sometimes, you can be incredibly stupid. I just buried my daughter and my granddaughter in one afternoon. What do you think?”
Her shoulders stooped; she gripped the handrail to steady her shaking legs as she started down the steps. She was older than when she first came in and had everything to live for.
I turned back to see Max still sitting at our table, tears rolling silently down his face. I hurried to him and pulled a handkerchief from his inside pocket to blot them. He laid his head on my shoulder. “I only wanted to make her happy, Al.”
“I know. Come. We need to get you outta here.”
“What have I done?”
I wrapped my arms around him, helping him to put on his coat. I grabbed his hat from the table and scowled at the customers who made no secret of their disapproval of a man crying.
* * *
Dear Marty,
I haven’t heard from you since October!!! Are you all right? I need to keep all the people I know together. I can’t stand it when they’re all separated. I know that’s crazy, but I just can’t lose track of anybody. It makes me feel like when my mother first started going crazy. It was like I was losing her, but she was right there, but she was changed, but in some way she wasn’t, but I couldn’t grab hold of the person I used to know. She was disappearing right in front of me. I can’t stand it when people disappear. Like Virginia today. No, I can’t explain that, but nobody should be by themselves in pain.
Not knowing how you are, where you are makes me feel like those days with my mother. I couldn’t grab hold onto anything, and I thought she didn’t want me anymore. And because of me, Virginia. No, I don’t want to talk about that now.
Please don’t forget me. XXX
AL
P.S. Congratulations on getting to be an extra in the crowd scene in The Ten Commandments.
Dear Al,
Forget you? How could I ever do that? Gus, remember he’s my agent. He’s sending me out to tons of auditions and screen tests. Then, he has me to go to these parties at night to meet people. I barely have time to sleep. I still haven’t landed anything yet. There are thousands of good-looking guys out here and they all look like me. Only they’re younger. I’m getting a late start with the war, and these young ones are pouring into L.A. That means I have to do extra just to catch up. Oops, got to get to another appointment. Lots of love and I’ll never forget you.
Love your partner in crime,
Marty
Marty,
Don’t get discouraged. It sounds like Gus is getting you into the right places. Keep up your horseback riding lessons. I think it’s a good sign that Mr. Cukor keeps asking you back to work at his Sunday parties. There must be a lot of contacts there you can make. XXX
Al