Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

The Sinatra Women (Continued from page 27) began to smile. " — Like I said," he went on, "who's the first witness then?" He looked straight at Tommy as he said that. "A father-in-law to be, if that's what I'm going to be, he's got to ask some questions first before he makes up his mind, doesn't he?" "Sure," Tommy whispered, a very hoarse whisper. "Okay," said Frank. He paused. Then he asked: "Do you love my little girl here?" "Oh yes sir . . . Frank . . . Mr. Sinatra," Tommy said, sitting forward on the couch, reaching for Nancy Jr.'s hand. "I love her. I sure do love her." Frank stared at the boy. "How much?" he asked. "With all the love that's in me," Tommy said. "Practically ever since the first time we met, I — " Frank brought up his hand. "Whoaaaa," he said, "and tell me about that; the first time you met, Mr. Sands. The story, if you please." That first meeting "Well . . ." said Tommy, clutching at Nancy Jr.'s hand, "... I was singing at the Cocoanut Grove and a gang of young people came by one night and I went over to their table to say hi. Nancy here was one of them. I don't remember exactly any more if we said more than five words to each other then, at that time. "But," he said, "I do remember that when I went back to the bandstand to do my next song, I couldn't take my eyes off Nancy. And she couldn't seem to take them off me ... At least, that's what I imagined." "You were right, Tommy," Nancy said. "I couldn't." "Well," Tommy went on, "well, as soon as I finished singing, the group Nancy was with got up and left. And I didn't see her again for a long while — not until Thanksgiving time. "Then, around that time, I met a pal of mine, fellow named Buddy, who'd been with the group that night back at the Grove. I happened to mention Nancy to him. 'Seems like a nice girl,' I said. "Buddy said, 'You been thinking about her all this time, from that one night you said hello?'^ "I said yes. "And he laughed and said, "Well, don't waste your time, pal. She's going steady.' "I've got to admit this made me a little sore — the way he laughed. And so I said, 'Who's wasting time? I only said she seemed like a nice girl. I didn't say I wanted to marry her.' " 'Okay, okay,' Buddy said, 'take it easy — I just wanted to clue you in, to make sure you knew the score.' "Well, about a month passed after that. The worst month of my life, I guess. I don't know how to describe it exactly, except that I was lonely. I felt empty inside me, like there was something important. I know now it was love. But even then I wasn't sure. . . ." He looked over at Frank again. "Go ahead," Frank said. "And then, one day, who do I run into again but this fellow Buddy, who says, 'Say — did you hear about Nancy Sinatra? She's not going steady anymore.' "That simple. "She — is — not — going — steady — anymore. "And the rest of the day it was like a new song in my head, the lyrics spinning 60 over and over again in my brain. "You know how it is with some lyrics, how they keep spinning up there?" Frank pursed his lips, and said nothing. "Well," Tommy said, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief now, wiping some of the perspiration from his forehead, "I called Nancy later that night and I asked her for a date. And she said, 'Tommy, I'd love it' — just like that; no airs, but simple and nice and sweet, like she really meant it. "We had a great time that night, Nancy and I," he said then. "And I began to think to myself . . . Here I am dancing with a girl I barely know, talking away, yakking away, like I've done so many other times in my life — but this time I think I'm falling in love. . . . "Well," he went on, "what happened after that happened quickly. "Two days later I got a note from Nancy. It was an invitation to a party she was having the coming Saturday. At the bottom of the invitation she wrote a P.S., telling me how much she'd enjoyed our last Saturday night together. "I called her to say thanks. And we talked for two hours. My mother moaned about my tying up the telephone, but I couldn't help it. We talked and talked, and by the end of our talk we'd made a movie date for Friday. And then that next night, Saturday, was the party . . . And that's when it all really happened." "What happened?" asked Frank. ". . . After the party ended," Tommy said, "I stayed to help Nancy clean up. We were in the kitchen. I'd never kissed her before this, on either of our two dates. But now I did. I took her in my arms and kissed her — because I couldn't wait to kiss her anymore. And then I asked her if she'd be my steady. And she whispered yes. The secret "We decided to keep our going steady quiet. We didn't want the newspaper columnists to get hold of this and make a big thing of it. We just wanted to be alone together, without the whole world looking in at us. So we went together for a couple of months, dating three or four times a week, going to movies, having dinners in small restaurants, taking long drives. "In February, towards the end of the month, I flew to New York to do a TV show. A few days later Nancy flew out to get ready to do some work for you, welcome Elvis back from Germany, and greet him on behalf of your TV show. Well, we were together there for a couple of days. But then I had to return to the Coast before Elvis arrived, so we really didn't have too much time together. "And it was back in California when it began to hit me, how much I missed being separated from Nancy, how I couldn't stand being separated from her. "After two days of this I phoned her, at the hotel where she was staying. "I told her, 'Nancy, I miss you ... I miss you so much!' " 'And I miss you, Tommy,' she said. "There were goosebumps all over me, just from hearing her voice. " 'Nancy,' I said, 'maybe you'll think I'm fresh, maybe you'll think I'm crazy, but Nancy, I love you . . . And I want to marry you.' "She didn't say anything. I waited, holding the receiver. But there was nothing at the other end — " "I asked, 'Nancy, are you all right?' "And after a pause she said, 'Yes, Tommy, I'm all right. I'm just so happy that I'm crying . . . Yes,' she said then, 'yes, Tommy, I'll marry you. I love you, too. And I want very much to marry you.' " "Very, very much, I said," Nancy cut in here. "Very very much." To make everything complete Tommy looked back at Frank now. "To finish up," he said, " — the next day I went and bought a ring. And when she came home to California, after her meeting with Elvis, I gave her the ring as she got off the plane. Then we went to see Mom here" — he indicated Nancy Sr. again, "and ask for her permission. She said yes . . . And now, to make everything complete, I'm asking your permission. To marry your daughter." The room was very silent, suddenly. "Do you think I might have any objections?" Frank asked. "You might," said Tommy. "Like?" "Religion, for one thing," Tommy said. "Nancy's Catholic. I'm not . . . You might object to that." "And?" "And maybe" — Tommy swallowed something which seemed to catch in his throat — "maybe you don't want her to marry a singer. To be truthful, it's an up-anddown life and you might not want your daughter to go through those ups and downs, and the trouble that it can cause, sometimes, between married people." Frank looked over at Nancy Sr., quickly, then back at Tommy. "And?" Tommy shrugged. "And," he said, "there's always a chance that you might not like me, that you might not think fm the guy for your daughter." Frank said nothing for a moment. Then, he got up from his chair and, slowly, he walked to a window. "You know," he said then, "about this religious thing — I'm no square. Why should I care? "About being a singer," he said then, "... well, salesmen and truckdrivers have their problems, too." "One last thing," he said, "about me liking you, or not liking you — " He stopped when he got to the couch. He put out his hand. "I like you fine, Tommy," he said. "My decision is yes." "Oh Daddy," Nancy Jr. shouted, joyously, jumping up and throwing her arms around Frank. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Thank you. . . ." And for those next few minutes as the others laughed — Frank and Tommy and Nancy Sr. — the girl continued hugging her father, thanking him, kissing him. Until, finally, Frank said something about this being a time to celebrate, left the room, went into the kitchen and returned, a few minutes later, with a huge bottle of cold champagne and four glasses. The courtship of Frankie and Nancy For the next half hour or so, the four of them continued sitting around, drinking a little, talking, Nancy Jr. doing most of the talking, actually — telling Frank excitedly, happily, about her plans for the wedding, the exact kind of gown she wanted, the kind of reception, the friends and family she wanted to ask. Until at one point she stopped, rather suddenly, and her voice a shade softer than it had been, she asked, "Mama, Daddy, what kind of wedding did you have?" Frank laughed. "Things were a little tougher for me in those days." "But was it nice?" the girl asked. "I mean, do you remember what it was like, exactly, after all these years?" Frank looked over at Nancy Sr. "Sure ... I remember," he said. "But women are supposed to remember these things better . . . You tell them, Nancy.