Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1959)

YOUR NEEDLEWORK Send iwenty-five cents (in coin) for each pattern to: Photoplay Needlework. 1*. 0. Box 123. Old Chelsea Station. N. Y. 11, N. Y. Add 5 f for each pattern for 1st class mailing. Send additional 25^ for Photoplay’s Needlework Catalogue. sew in sizes 2, 4, 6 , 8, 10. includes tissue pattern , embroidery pocket transfer. 7306 — A woodland scene to embroider makes a lovely picture to hang on your wall. Transfer is 15 x 19y% inches. Lovely Inger Stevens enjoys hand embroidery. She’s now in Paramount’ s “ The Buccaneer.” 626 — A bluebird for every day of the week to embroider on kitchen towels. Transfer of seven motifs, each 6 x 7 inches. Easy to make. i ing the doctor. Dazedly, Janet hung up. ' “Kelly’s sick. And I don’t even know | whether there’s a doctor with her.” The ! young parents looked at each other. Suddenly, Janet said, “I’m going to call Anne!” Kirk Douglas’ wife had accompanied him as far as London and was waiting there until the location shooting was over. Two miracles happened: This call went through quickly, and the connection was clear. Just the sound of Anne’s charmingly accented voice, serene though blurred by sleep, was firm reassurance. She grasped the situation immediately and said, “Now stop worrying. I’ll go right over there, and I’ll call you the moment I hear what the doctor has to say.” They waited. The sun rose over the dark, stony hills and touched the white, neat town. Sympathetic, the innkeeper’s wife made hot coffee for them. And then the telephone rang. “It isn’t the slightest bit serious,” Anne’s sensible voice said. “Just an upset stomach.” “But you’ll keep looking in on her?” “Of course I will.” Two weeks lay ahead of them. Two weeks in this remote place. Two weeks before they’d see Kelly again, in Dinard, France, where the nurse would take her if she’d fully recovered. “Sound asleep — both of ’em. Kelly’d wriggled out of her covers, but I tucked ! her in again.” At the sound of Tony’s voice, Janet was startled into realizing where she was now and what she was doing: standing in front of her mirror, putting on a last touch of . lipstick, wearing her new dress. I “Turn around. Let’s see this great creation.” Obediently, she turned, and Tony nodded approval. “Good color — goes with your eyes and your hair.” The subtle shade accented amber highlights in her hair and golden sparkles in her eyes. “It’s i topaz, all right. If you’d dropped a hint, I’d have gotten you some real ones for Christmas.” “I like this better.” She flickered her \ hand so the light would catch the facets of the diamond Tony had given her, a carat for every pound Jaimie weighed at birth (6 pounds, 12 ounces). Engraved inside the cocktail ring was the date of Jaimie’s birth, “November 22, 1958.” Affectionately, Janet curved her other hand over the precious ring. “Let’s go. Are you ready?” “I just have to get my wrap.” Downstairs, the children’s nurse was waiting. “Both asleep,” Tony reported. | “Enjoy the party,” the nurse smiled. | Against the color-accented black and white of the modern living room, the tree and the Christmas greens struck a note of the traditional. Janet brushed a hand across a glittery gold ornament as she passed. “When we take these down, we’ll have to figure out something to keep Kelly’s mind off it.” “She can look forwai'd to next year.” “A whole year, Tony? That’s all of eteri nity to a little girl, no matter how fast it’ll go for us.” \ “Faster all the time. Sometimes I wish i we could kind of slow down and appre! ciate everything.” As he closed the front door behind them, Janet turned to look at the wreath, , at the graceful, New Orleans-style grillwork around the doorway, upwards at the j darkened second floor. “Everything we have,” she said. “Our children, our home, our friends . . . each other. Tony, I want I to make another resolution: not to forget all the ways God has blessed us.” ! “I’ll go along with that,” he said. —DOROTHY DAY | TONY AND JANET CO-STAR IN U-l’S “THE PERFECT FURLOUGH,” AND HE’LL BE SEEN AFT1 ER THAT IN U.A.’s “SOME LIKE IT HOT.”