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love sneaked in
(Continued from, page 33) Melcher drove to the home he had been visiting for a long time to see his girl. He didn't park his car in the street as he had done so often before, but drove it into the garage. Then he went into his own house with his own key, and he might have stopped in the dining room where the breakfront is with the Spode and crystal on the shelves, and the lace runner and ceramic ducks on the counter. He might have opened the right drawer to get a screwdriver to tighten something in the radio. And if his wife had come in to see what he was doing, and you had told them that they were standing in front of their engagement ring, they'd have said you were crazy.
But you wouldn't have been crazy — or far from right. A short time before her marriage someone asked Doris Day what kind of an engagement ring Marty had given her.
"We're not engaged," said Doris. "We're just going to be married as soon as we can." And she laughed her infectious little laugh. "Nobody promised anybody anything. Nobody has planned anything. We're just in love — and we're going to get married."
To this day, Doris and Marty think that that is how it happened, but Modern Screen foxmd out differently. There were promises, and plans, and a real moment, before a green and silver Christmas tree, when they pledged themselves to one another. But it was all so real and subtle that Doris and Marty didn't know about it.
Most married couples are required by ancient dictate to remember every detail of their first meeting. It is something of a major sin against their union for either of them to forget the day, hour, place and occasion of this event. If a man first set eyes on his future Missus while she was struggling with a bicycle tire on a country road at four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, he must comment on it for the rest of his days every time he sees a bicycle, a fiat tire or a cotintry road. And at four o'clock every Saturday afternoon, he must audibly hark back to his luckiest hour or get cold hash for dinner. The rules are not so stringent for women because it is assumed that they never forget anything.
But Doris Day and Marty Melcher don't remember the first time they met.
"Gosh," said Doris, "he was my agent— and it seems like I've always known him."
I'p'oR the record, it was some time after ' Doris arrived in Hollywood, a band singer of note, and presented herself to the head of Century Artists — Marty Melcher— to find out how much was being done to make her a movie star. Suspicion was her strong point at that time. She had made a couple of smash recordings with Les Brown's orchestra. But, never having considered herself a raving beauty, she looked with a cautious eye upon all the enthusiasts who predicted fame and fortune for her in the cinema. Naturally, her agent was one of these dreamers.
Marty Melcher, in those early years, functioned as a business associate, a nice fellow who in some apparently honest manner got her a lot of money for doing the things she'd have been happy to do for next to nothing. Doris professes not to know when Marty Melcher became a necessity in her life, for the relationship developed without either one of them realizing it.
"All of a sudden," said Doris, "I discovered that I leaned on Marty for almost everything. If a faucet started to leak in my house I'd call him and say, 'Marty, the faucet's dripping (Continued on page 75)
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