Modern Screen (Jan-Dec 1960)

It Last Minute Letter to Debbie Continued from page 31) ears ago at a party at Ann Miller's home. was married to Vic Orsatti then, and jin's date was a tall, quiet man with sad > es behind horn-rimmed glasses, and a ny, diffident manner. Everybody at the party was having fun xcept this man. He sat alone most of the me and I kept thinking he looked like forlorn little cocker spaniel. Later, I aw him sitting alone in the library and I ;arted talking to him, not because I was iterested in him, but out of sheer symathy. I was to learn that Harry has an mazing talent for attracting sympathy, p's one of the things that draws people 3 him and makes them stick with him. OUR PATHS DIDN'T CROSS for sevral months after that, and in those months lany things happened to me. Vic and I /ere divorced and I returned to my areer. I was under contract to MGM and ostarring in a film with Gene Kelly when 'alph Freed, one of the people on the ■icture, came over to me and said, "There's guy who's dying to meet you." I said, "No, thanks. I'm too busy to meet new man." "But he insists upon meeting you. He's larry Karl — says he met you once before nd would like to date you now that ou're free. He's too shy to call you uness he knows you'll be receptive to his all." I recalled the shy man with the sad yes and said, "Tell you what. I want to ;ive some bubble gum to the children of . friend of mine. If he sends me a box of 00 pieces of gum, I'll go out with him." The next day Ralph brought me not one, jut one hundred boxes of bubble gum rom Harry. That's Harry Karl for you. Vhen he wants to make an impression on 1 girl he goes all out, whether it's bubble |um or diamonds. I dated him, of course. And we started o see each other from that time on until »/e were married one year later. Harry ■Carl in a courtship is something to see. ie's overpoweringly attentive to the girl. was bowled over by his thoughtfulness. »Vhen I said I wanted to go here or there, 3arry had the tickets. When I said I wanted this or that, Harry got it. He lit ny cigarettes, poured the cream in my :offee, put my wrap over my shoulders ind had his staff run errands for me. I'm a woman. I was very impressed. And besides, those big, sad eyes used to tear at ny heart. I understand he's that attentive to you, Debbie, and I hope that your disenchantment doesn't come after the wedding as mine did. We didn't even have a home of our own when we got married. We moved into the guest house of my parents' home in the Valley. We couldn't afford a home of our own at the time; Harry had a large business debt to pay off. To help him pay off that debt, I continued working. With my movie salary and personal appearance tours, I was earning in the neighborhood of $3500 a week. This was a big help during a period in Harry's life when he needed financial help. We were happy at this time. I was busy with my career, Harry had his own routine. It was a routine, I was to discover later, that continued even when it brought me loneliness and heartache. He'd get up early in the morning, go to his office, work there till noon, then take off for one of his clubs, the Friars of Hillcrest, where he'd play cards until evening. Then he'd come home, his energies spent, silent and preoccupied. At first, I didn't mind this. I was busy with my work and I didn't realize that Harry was away quite so much of the time, nor that he was so glum around the house when he was home. I didn't realize either, until much later, that Harry apparently was just as much in love with the glamour of my career as he was with me as a woman. For soon afterwards, something happened to open my eyes to this. WE HAD MOVED into a home of our own in the Valley and after we were settled in it, I had a great desire to be just a housewife and mother. I'd been in show business ever since I was 13 — I'd had an exciting career; Fd been known in pictures as "The Body" and had starred in many films. I had dozens of scrapbooks bulging with clippings. I wanted to say good-bye to all that now that I was married, and start to have a family. When I mentioned this to Harry I was appalled at his lack of enthusiasm. However, I was so obsessed with the idea of having a baby that I didn't let his own coolness to the idea deter me. I was the happiest girl in the world when the doctor told me that I was going to have a baby. But Harry didn't feel that way at all. He didn't display much sympathy when I was ill, and he became bored with my morning sickness. Because I am one of those women who run into difficulties during pregnancy (eventually I was to have six miscarriages), my doctor insisted that I remain in bed. How I wished at the time that my husband would stay with me to help me pass the time. It would have made things much easier. But Harry can't seem to stand any kind of unpleasant situation around his wife. It may be due to a great sensitivity within him. I discovered during my married life with him that he loves his women to move in a perpetual cloud of glamour. He seems to be repelled when the woman is incapacitated or in need of sympathy. He fell in love with me because I was Marie McDonald, a movie star who was glamourous on and off the screen. But watching me as I lay in bed, fighting to preserve the life of my unborn baby, apparently was not what he had bargained for. He seemed indifferent at a time when I needed a warm and comforting husband. I can understand what made him behave the way he did, but it didn't help matters. He began to leave earlier and earlier for his office; return later and later from his clubs. When it finally occurred to me that he was probably avoiding me because he wanted a gay, not a bedridden wife, I defied my doctor's orders and got out of bed and joined Harry on a trip he was making to San Francisco. Eventually, I lost the baby. Harry, meanwhile, had begun to prosper. He became bored with our simple Early American house in the Valley, and wanted something more pretentious. One day he brought me to see a vast English Tudor style house on Sunset Boulevard in Beverly Hills and said, "This is going to be our new home." Possessions mean different things to different people. Harry has always been withdrawn by nature and has always had an inferiority complex. To Harry, this magnificent estate on five valuable acres represented stature and security. It gave him a feeling of importance. I didn't have Harry's sense of insecurity. I didn't need a mansion to make me feel accepted. After we moved in, the gloom of this big house that had more rooms than I could possibly count, oppressed me. We had to pay $5,000 a month just for servants to run this monster. We were running into debt to keep up this big place and tensions were beginning to flare up between us. Because Harry has some wonderful traits, I still thought our marriage could be saved. And I wanted, desperately, to have a child. After several miscarriages which left me ill and depressed, I was able to convince Harry that we should adopt a baby. To my great joy we adopted not one, but two babies in quick succession; Denise and Harrison, who are ten years old today and only a few months apart. I WOULDN'T let my babies out of my sight. I'd run the nurse out of the nursery and sleep there myself, my hand in Deedee's, just to feel her close by and hear both my babies breathing as they slept. I didn't realize it then, but I believe that one of the reasons I clung so to my babies was because with them I found the warmth and the feeling of being needed that I didn't find with Harry. As I became more wrapped up in the children and home, Harry became more indifferent. It was a habit of his I was to grow to understand later: domesticity in a woman bores him. Once the glamourous trappings are shed, Harry ceases to be interested in that woman. Even if that woman is his wife. When we had first dated, my natural gaiety acted as a stimulus to him. But once we were settled in a home of our own, with two babies in the nursery, he didn't try to conceal his boredom. When he'd come home, he'd go up to his room, have dinner sent up on a tray and have it in bed, then lie in bed and watch television all night. He'd remain in bed, have his meals there and be fastened to the TV set all week end. This kind of thing almost drove me out of my mind. The house was gloomy enough; this was an added pall. I discovered Harry is not able to create his own fun. There are many people like that, and this in itself is not a fault. But I think it's important for you, Debbie, to know this because you have such a gay personality. Harry will always adore you if you retain your gaiety and spirit of fun. In order to pep up things around the house, I would ask friends over without telling Harry, and after they'd arrived, I would go up to Harry (usually still ensconced in bed watching TV) and tell him that friends had dropped in. Then he would get up, dress and come down. I must say, however, that when he entertained our friends he was a very gracious host. Many times, in order to win Harry's companionship, I would force myself to be laughing and gay and dare him to join me in a moonlight swim in the pool. I had to use my imagination all the time to draw him into each new adventure, and continually keep him intrigued. I became so exhausted trying to stimulate Harry's interest that I finally had to give up. Besides, I had begun to assume his type of lethargy and my personality suffered. Friends noticed I wasn't as vivacious as I used to be. I hope you never have to go through this, Debbie, for your vivacity is one of your most delightful traits. Not only was Harry's moody behavior reacting on my personality, I began to develop heart spasms. After several attacks I realized I could no longer live with him. In Harry's defense I must say he never intended to upset me; he is a man who means well. But his attitude of indifference and his silent moods were beginning to