Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1956)

Although the tragedy was momentarily a major one, Rock recalls the incident fondly, and gives with it a big hint as to why Phyllis won out where others had failed. “I guess it was the way she took it,” he says. “She began to laugh and that got me started. Pretty soon what might I have turned into our first quarrel became a big joke.” He looked thoughtful. “That’s one of the wonderful things about Phyl — you can always count on her sense of humor. And, I might add, her complete I control over any given situation.” I The situation Rock best remembers oc] curred on a morning after a night before. I The Hudsons had had guests who’d stayed until the smaller hours. When the door, bell rang at ten a.m.. Rock and Phyllis were still asleep. It rang again and Phyllis raised a drowsy head. “Rock,” she said, “are we expecting anyone?” “Uh . . . ubb . . . ugh,” said Rock. I “Rock, I think we have company.” He opened an eye. “Couldn’t be,” he ; mumbled. “They said they’d call if they were coming.” ; “Who said?” “Hmmmm?” The other eye struggled open. “Oh . . . ummm . . . well, the studio j wanted to take some pictures. Wasn’t definite. Told me if it was definite they’d call.” Both eyes closed. “Didn’t call,” he finished weakly and pushed his face back into his pillow. The Hudson doorbell is not one to be ignored. “Better answer,” suggested Phyllis. ^ Rock got to his feet and struggled into ? a robe. On the front steps he found a ,1 publicity man, several cameramen and two electricians. They were surrounded by I photographic equipment. “Good grief,” > moaned the publicist as he caught sight I of their subject. “I forgot to let you know li we were coming.” j Their host led them into the living room and returned to the bedroom to rouse Phyllis. “I guess a lot of wives might have been upset,” Rock recalls. “But do you know, the only thing that bothered my wife was the fact that we had to keep them waiting while we got dressed?” He goes on. “Phyllis worked in an agency before we were married, so she knows this business. Still, it’s one that can get terribly confusing at times. All the same, people from the studio have told me that whenever they call her ' and talk to her about something we’re supposed to do or something that’s going to happen, she gets the picture right away.” But don’t get the idea that Mrs. Hudson is just her husband’s yes-woman. She has a very definite mind of her own. “Take the matter of dinner,” says Rock. ' When they dine at home, Phyllis does the cooking. Mealwise, Rock still maintains many of his bachelor tastes. “But at home I eat fairly sensibly,” he admits. You’d have to lunch with Rock to appreciate this statement — as Martha Hyer could tell you. Martha, his co-star in “Battle. Hymn,” joined Rock at a U-I commissary table one noon and could i hardly down her own meal for watching Rock go through his order. She looked on, I fascinated, as he consumed a dish of chili and then a dish of cottage cheese. When he’d finished he asked Mabel, the studio waitress, for a chocolate nut sundae. , “That’s more like it,” sighed Martha. I And she meant it, until the sundae ; arrived and Rock began to sprinkle it ' with salt. “Hudson,” said Martha. “Does Phyllis really whip up these exotic dishes for you?” “Well,” said Hudson. “No.” Then he added helpfully, “But she’s come around to my way of thinking about sour cream on steak. Now that’s the greatest!” Martha pushed away her own dessert. “Let’s get back to the set,” she suggested weakly. Phyllis and Rock both have definite tastes and definite ideas, and they don’t always coincide. “We’re very positive people,” Rock will tell you. “We’re always making positive statements about things.” But compromises are spontaneous in the Hudson household. When Phyllis moved into Rock’s bachelor abode, there was little furniture. When he’d had company and needed another chair, he had simply dashed out to the patio and lugged in a piece of garden furniture. He’d planned to complete the house gradually. “No decorators for me,” he’d announced positively. “I don’t want my house looking like a department store window.” At the present time, a decorator is working with Phyllis. On the other hand, however, upon entering the Hudson house one can’t help noticing a large red-plaid chair which would never fit into a decorator’s scheme of things. Phyllis knew it. She also knew that Rock would love that chair. Sometimes their compromises mean that each goes his (or her) own way. On Phyllis’ birthday. Rock sat her down on the couch and ordered her to close her eyes. She heard him disappear for a few moments, then return. She felt him placing something in her lap; something soft and fluffy, with two ears and a cold nose. Phyllis had become the owner of a puppy. “Name’s Joe,” Rock informed her. “Never!” retorted Phyllis. She settled for Demitasse. Demi, for short — a moniker which makes Rock shudder. “Here, Demi,” Phyllis will call. “Here, Spike,” Rock says amiably. Rock has always been a generous man, a thoughtful one. He’s the sort of fellow who’d give you the shirt off his chair if you admired it. As a husband, he outdoes himself. Possibly because there’s something about the way Phyllis’ face glows when she’s surprised. Shortly after their wedding. Rock took his wife by the hand and led her out to the garage. There she found a brand-new black Ford, with red-leather upholstery. It was tied with a large red ribbon. “Happy wedding gift,” were his words. Phyllis was glowing. She was also crying. “I’ve never seen so many tears,” says Rock. “But they were happy tears.” The next surprise was a mink stole. Someone printed the news of the purchase in a column before Rock got it home. That nearly killed him. Nowadays he goes shopping with the caution of an undercover agent. As for going anywhere else, the Hudsons rarely ever do. “There’s just no point in going out as much as we used to,” Rock says. “You don’t want to — when you have someone to go home to.” Phyllis smiles as she hears him say that. It is a secret smile — a woman’s smile — and a smile any other woman can understand. It is the smile of a woman who was intelligent enough to know what she wanted, and lucky enough to get it. As for those others, “I don’t care how many women there might have been in his life,” says Phyllis. “All that matters now is that I’m the woman.” The secret of her success is a simple one, and she’ll tell it to you gladly and cheerfully. “I guess,” she will say simply, “that Rock and I were right for each other, or it never could have happened — could it?” Let those who have loved and lost take comfort from that — and from the fact that somewhere, for each of them, whether or not they have found it, there is someone who is right for them. The End Don’t miss: Rock Hudson in “Giant” and “Written on the Wind.” ■P I Can’t Get Rid of IdajK or Discolored Skin, .Freckles, Skin Spots? HERE’S HELP! Mercolized Wax Cream 7 NIGHT PLAN Lightens, Beautifies Skin WhileYou Sleep Just follow the famous Mercolized Wax Cream 7 Night Plan to a whiter, smoother, lovelier skin. Smooth rich, luxurious Mercoiized Wax Cream on your face or arms just before retiring each night for one week. 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