Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1958)

what are they waiting for?” was the question. From watching and listening to Steve and Eydie you guess the answer: their good common sense, their sensible rearing, with family life a dominating force in their formative years. They just knew that marriage is a serious step, not to be rushed. Besides, they were separated a good deal of the time with individual night club engagements all over the country. “Those phone bills!” Steve holds his head. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder — and the phone bills larger.” “It’s because you talked too much,” Eydie puts in. “I used to say, ‘How about hanging up?’ — but no, you always had something more to tell me.” Steve looks appropriately squelched. “I only wanted to tell her I loved her. Is that bad?” Eydie cocks her pert little head: “No, it’s just repetitious — and expensive. I always heard him the first time.” Then as an aside she whispers: “But it was always dam nice to hear it again and again. But now we figure there is no sense for people who want to be together to be separated. So I’m booked when Steve will be free so he can go with me, and he’s arranged his bookings when I’m free so I can go with him. We won’t make as much money that way, as if we both took continuous engagements, but we need to be together. We want the happiness of sharing our lives. “We complement each other,” says Eydie. “Steve is very easygoing, relaxed. I’m inclined to be more tense. I’ve learned the joy of relaxation since I married Steve.” “I rub off on people,” Steve comments. “He dominates, of course,” says Eydie. “No, she does,” says Steve. Eydie considers seriously for a moment. “I guess maybe he’s right. He asks me what I’d like to do — with his mind already made up!” “Not so, not so!” cries Steve, grinning. “She means like if I ask her would she like me to make breakfast and bring it to her in bed. She would, and I do.” And he makes a neat ham and egg dish,” smiles Eydie. “And he’s very good for me. I’m stronger now — more able to make decisions. I used to be wishywashy. Now, faced with a problem, I face it, and I’m able to size up a situation more quickly. I used to be shy with strangers. I felt inferior. So many silly little things that I’m so much better about since I have Steve. “Your turn.” Eydie addresses Steve. He looks quite serious. Then slowly he says: “Eydie gives me a confidence I never had before. It’s a feeling of security that comes when somebody loves you. It’s great.” Then almost as if he were shy of being so sentimentally honest, he reaches down and picks up a slip cover. “Pardon me, lady,” he says, addressing the couch. “I don’t mean to be fresh, but I want to show what’s under you.” The couch-material under the slip cover is of beautiful buff velvet, and the huge accompanying chair is a soft pearl gray. “Eydie decorated the whole place,” Steve says. “Look at the drapes.” They are indeed unusual — off-white silk, with small black tassels ornamenting the tops, like a valance. “She does the shopping too,” Steve adds proudly. Suddenly Eydie jumps up, goes into the bedroom, and returns with her wedding dress. She’s very proud of it, and she keeps it wrapped in layers of protective materials: first a wrapping of Saran, over which drapes a cellophane bag. The dress is an off-white peau de soie, cocktail length, with a sweep of back panel and a short lace jacket. Eydie starts to put the dress back in its mummy-like wrappings. Wistfully she says, “I thought at the time of how practical it might prove to be— to wear to parties, for instance. But — I sort of just want to — keep it, always.” If there is a little catch in her voice, she brushes it away quickly by adding, “It’s well made. It wouldn’t wear out.” “It was a wonderful wedding.” Steve fills the gap while Eydie goes to put her p 88 STEP RIGHT THIS WAY! | You needn’t be a movie | star to walk, stand and | move like one. (At right, | Yvonne Craig.) Next 1 month, you are invited to 1 share lessons in poise and 1 grace with some of this 1 year’s most promising 1 young actresses at Holly| wood’s famous training 1 center, Estelle Harman’s | Actor’s Workshop. | Don’t miss 44 You Have an | Audience, Too,” Photo1 play’s big October beauty | bonus. On sale Sept. 4th. dress away. “To start a wonderful year.” “Would you like to see the wedding pictures?” Steve produces an enormous white leather album. “This is the best album either of us will ever make,” he says. There are dozens of pictures — with their respective families, with the rabbi who performed the ceremony, with each other. “And here’s the best pose of all.” Steve points out a picture showing him carrying Eydie over an imaginary threshold. “Like grooms are supposed to do,” he says. The threshold of matrimony is indeed the most important portal of a lifetime. The Steve Lawrences have just begun to discover the magic on the other side of the door. In fact, for Eydie — as well as for Steve — the glow looks like it’s never going to wear off. At the last Academy Award presentations, Eydie rushed up to Red Buttons to congratulate him on receiving the supporting prize. “Isn’t it wonderful,” she said, “the most wonderful year ever for both of us. You won an Oscar and I won a Steve!” Finally, Eydie returns with a white bridal Bible in which are pressed the carnation Steve wore at the wedding and a pink camellia from her bridal bouquet. She even has kept the framework of the bouquet. There are pink bows and clusters of white net rosettes sparkling with sequins. Tenderly she returns it to its box. As Eydie retreats to put the precious bouquet back in its proper place, Steve produces a lovely crystal cigarette box and tray, Steve Allen’s wedding present. “Eydie loves glass.” he says. “Yop.” Eydie is back. “And I can see right through you, boy.” “This is another one of our treasures,” she says. She shows us a color photo of Judy Garland. It is inscribed: “To darling Eydie and Steve. From your fan Judy.” Eydie explains the inscription, “She came to see me when I played the Coconut Grove in California and I visited at her house while I was there. We became close pals. She’s the greatest!” “She certainly is a great entertainer,” Steve says. “And speaking of entertainers, my mother and father should be in show business — sort of like a Jewish version of Lucy and Desi — only my mother’s fatter. But smart! She recently passed her driver’s license test. My father has a great sense of humor. For instance, take a look at this clock.” He indicates a fine old French piece, delicately encrusted with etched bronze designs. Its face is fragile crystal and it is edged in a narrow band of gold. It is not a clock anybody would mistake for an everyday timepiece. “Well, my father took one look at it and said: ‘It’s okay. But it’s five minutes slow. Does it have an alarm?’ ” Recently Steve’s folks moved from Brooklyn to a New York suburb. There his mother revels in a new kitchen, quite different from the old-fashioned one she had for so many years in Brooklyn. “But she still makes the same wonderful dishes,” Steve says. “I’m drooling,” interrupts Eydie. “We had stuffed cabbage last time we were out there. Did we eat well that day! On holidays we like to visit both sets of parents. So, we go to one for lunch and the other for dinner. We have big familv parties. My sister and her children, Steve’s and their kids. Twenty people ... a small party. Fun!” “Eydie’s mom’s got some reputation as a cook, too,” says Steve. “She’s known from one end of the Bronx to another as a champ at making roast chicken with liver stuffing. Of course,” and he pats his stomach, “Eydie is a good cook, too. She cooked a wonderful lunch today. We split a steak, figs and that pink rice she makes.