Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

did with his butler, his former nurse, and Nina Shipman. I was a little afraid of his reaction when he saw all the photographers, and so was Jill. But he came through very well. He smiled amiably and, although he didn't dilly-dally to pose for pictures, was very pleasant to the photographers. The flight to San Francisco took only a little over an hour. There we were greeted again by an even larger group of reporters who were surprised when Jill answered some of their questions before they were asked. Like, "Don't ask me any silly questions about my family. I can only give you the standard, phony answers — like seven children would be just fine." They were all in a happy frame of mind because they laughed and waved at us as we climbed into the big black limousine provided by the studio. We were whisked to the Mark Hopkins Hotel, where all of us retired to our own suites, Miss Hutton had the Royal Suite, my husband and I had the Ambassador suite, and for the life of me, I can't remember the names of all the other beautiful suites. However, they were all on one floor. In fact, Miss Hutton had taken over the entire floor to make sure that the ceremony would be undisturbed. Judging by Lance's reaction, nothing could have pleased him more. It was about two thirty when we all assembled in Miss Hutton's suite, excited and gay, and anxious for the ceremony to start, although it wasn't scheduled for another hour and a half. Jill's craving before the wedding And then, at three o'clock, it happened. I was standing next to Lance when Jill came over and tugged on his sleeve. "I feel like a hot fudge sundae," she grinned. If Lance was surprised, he didn't show it. But Miss Hutton certainly did. "What youth will do!" she exclaimed. Lance was all against Jill's idea. First of all he didn't feel like a hot fudge sundae an hour and a half before he got married. Secondly, he didn't know where she could get one at this time. "I noticed a very nice little ice cream parlor right across from the hotel," Jill informed him cheerfully. Lance still wasn't in favor of the idea. "If we go out there, we'll be recognized by reporters." "We can sneak out the back way," Jill pleaded. While Lance was determined not to go, he didn't mind letting his bride-to-be take off with Nina. And so the two girls secretly sneaked out of the hotel, dashed across the street, and without being seen by the thirty or more reporters who had assembled on the floor below for the brief press conference Lance had promised them after the ceremony, walked into the ice cream parlor — where they were promptly recognized by a local reporter who joined them. Said Jill, afterwards, "He was so nice — he even paid the bill!!!" Yet as the minutes passed by, I became more anxious about what was happening to them. I couldn't help glancing at my watch every few seconds wondering whether my daughter would get back in time. She finally did — with about five minutes to spare. Although the ceremony was brief, it was beautifully performed, and I could see my daughter's happiness by the way she kissed Lance after it was over. But they were no longer willing to kiss in public. After we had the most delicious hors d'oeuvres — everything from caviar to imported French champagne, Jill's bridesmaid announced that she had a very special surprise for the newlyweds. "Close your eyes and stretch out your hands," she ordered. Jill and Lance did as told. Two seconds later they heard a click as Nina handcuffed them with a gold-plated pair of handcuffs. We all thought the shackles were very funny, although I said a silent prayer that Nina hadn't lost the key. They were still shackled to each other when they walked downstairs for the ten minute press conference they had agreed to give. It was then that one of the photographers asked them to kiss in front of the cameras. Lance came back with a very emphatic, "Not here." And then Jill refused to show her ring, because she thought that would be vulgar. About seven we had a wonderful dinner, arranged by Miss Hutton. We had shrimp, waldorf salad, beef stroganoff with wild rice, and of course, the beautiful twotiered wedding cake — which I took home with us. Only a few people were at the airport when we left, but there was a wonderful feeling of gaiety once we got on the plane. The local papers had covered the ceremony, and you could see passengers turn around from wherever they were sitting and stare at Jill and Lance. And then they came over, one and two at a time, to wish them good luck and all the happiness in the world. I was quite exhausted as I moved my seat back, and tried to relax. But I couldn't help overhearing one cynic remark behind me, "I wonder how long this is going to last?" I knew what he meant. Jill had been married before, and it didn't work out. Moreover, my daughter is an actress, and supposedly everybody knows that a career and a marriage don't mix. I don't agree. First of all, Jill was only sixteen when she married Neil Dubin. And they had known each other less than three months. It was no surprise to anyone that the marriage didn't work out. Lance and Jill have known each other for three years. They're sure of themselves and each other. From the begin ning, Jill was impressed by his straightforwardness, his manners, his sense of humor — just as I think Lance appreciated that Jill was never impressed by his wealth. She had traveled in pretty much the same circles as Lance. A number of fellows she dated were equally well-off. And if there was a time when she couldn't afford something, my husband and I always gave it to her. As far as her career is concerned, they have talked this over in great detail. Lance has not insisted that she give it up as long as she wants to stick to it. And quite frankly, she does. Jill is not one to come out with a pat answer like "If my marriage and my career don't mix, I'd quit working." She is determined to go on with her career just as she is determined to make her marriage work out. And she's convinced that she can do a good job with both. For that matter, Lance has already adjusted himself quite well to the role of a movie star's husband. Jill changed him When Jill and Lance first met, he used to shun any type of publicity gathering such as premieres, or big parties. Gradually Jill persuaded him to change his attitude. For the sake of her career, she has to be seen in public, with or without Lance. And one night she told him quite frankly that being seen with him made people want to write more about her. Lance appreciated such honesty. While he kept teasing her that she really didn't want to become an actress, just a movie star, he kept going along with little grumbling, to whatever functions she was requested to attend. And while at one time he would have balked altogether at stopping to pose for pictures, now he will not only pose, but even force a smile for the cameras once in a while. Of course Jill has shown a willingness to do things for Lance's sake as well. Like sports — the mere thought of which she detested a few years ago! Today she's quite expert at skin-diving and skiing. She is also a good hostess, and I think this will help Lance who loves having people over to his house once in a while. It was after midnight when the plane finally landed at Los Angeles' International Airport. It was too late, and we were too tired, to drink another toast to the new couple who were anxious to get home, not only because it was their wedding night, but also because they had planned to get up early to go on their skiing honeymoon, at Mammoth Lakes. As my husband and I saw them drive off, I couldn't help remembering Barbara Hutton's parting words a few hours earlier. "I'm glad they got married," she told me. "They seem so good for one another." She was so right. Lance found in Jill what he wanted, just as she found in him what she needed. END Jill stars in 20th-Fox's The Lost World. Where Are You, Eddie, I Need You!" (Continued from page 43) the knife. It was a frightening responsibility. Debbie needed reassurance badly. Though the bonds of love were dead between them, she needed Eddie at this moment. In this moment when the life of their child might be lying in the balance, she couldn't just turn to anyone. Not even to Harry Karl, the man many people think 60 she will marry. Only the child's father had the right to say, "Yes. Let the doctor operate," or "No — let us consult another doctor." And if the child was to face surgery, his father should be beside his bed when he opened his eyes after the operation, became conscious, and became panicky at the thought of being in a strange place between strange covers. At such a moment a boy, even the smallest child, needs not only his mother, but also his father. But his father was vacationing in Jamaica, out somewhere — pain creased Debbie's forehead — with the woman whose love had meant more to him than her love or staying with his children. She'd tried to get through to him. through almost 4,000 miles of telephone wire. The operator had grown tired of calling "There's no answer," she said. "Do you want to leave a message?" "Doesn't anybody know where Mr Fisher is?" "Sorry, he didn't leave any message Shall I ask him to call you back?"