Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1951)

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A few drops of OUTGRO® bring blessed relief from tormenting pain of ingrown nail. OUTGRO toughens the skin underneath the nail, allows the nail to be cut and thus prevents further pain and discomfort. OUTGRO is available at all drug counters. P When NERVOUS TENSION MAKES YOU ALL “KEYED-UP” Take Miles Nervine to relax. See how it can soothe and comfort “jangled” nerves. Contains no Barbiturates. Follow the label. Avoid excessive use. At all drugstores. MILES NERVINE Mother to the hospital. And Evvie, they’re outside. They’ll be here any second.” “Who’s outside? What’s Mother doing in the hospital?” “Nothing serious. I sent the doctor over on account of that pain she had. He wants her to go in for a check-up. Ev, Daddy looks exactly the same.” “How do you know?” “I saw him. But I got kind of shy and sneaked around the back way.” The front doorbell rang. Evvie opened it to their visitors. Through the flurry of greetings, she tried to maintain her poise. June was nervous, and showed it. She’d wanted everything so nice. Now, instead of hospitality, she had explanations to offer. About Mother. About Dorothy who couldn’t be there because of the two babies. It was Dad who cleared the air. They can’t remember what he said, and the words didn’t matter. All they knew was that suddenly the tension lifted. THEY did all the things they planned, but the high spots were these: Dinner at the Bel-Air, with champagne to celebrate their re-union. Dad brought an album along, filled with snapshots of the girls when they were little, and the evening was given over to reminiscences. “I remember how you used to wash your hands.” “Doesn’t everyone?” “Everyone’s way is a little different. 1 remember how you shaved. And the extra funny faces you’d make on purpose.” “I remember Gorgy-porgy.” “What on earth?” asked Florence. “He’d fix crackers with syrup for us, or bread and milk, and to make it more interesting, he’d give it some silly name. Like Gorgy-porgy — ” “Remember our arguments in the back seat, Ev?” “How could I forget? You never looked to see whom you were disciplining, Dad. ‘Be quiet,’ you’d say, and back flopped the hand. It always caught me.” “Ev and I fixed you, though. Whenever we felt an argument coming on, we’d slide to the floor where you couldn’t reach us.” The first time they danced with him was at the Beverly Hills Hotel. But for June the years dissolved, running into one another, as Dad’s arms went ’round her. It was here and now, yet it was far away and long ago too, and she was a little girl, floating proudly off in the arms of her tall father between the stars above and the lights below, sure that nothing could ever be more beautiful. Tears stung her lids, thrusting her back to the present. Mother came out of the hospital, checked and okay. “Are you taking good care of your father and Florence?” she’d ask. “Are they enjoying themselves?” But she didn’t ask: “When am I going to see them?” They’d spent an afternoon at Dot’s, with Dad snapping pictures of the grandchildren like crazy. On the way home he said quietly: “We’d like to see your mother and everyone. Could that be arranged?” But, of course, nothing simpler, he had only to say the word, they’d get right after it. “Well,” prompted Evvie in June’s apartment later, “let’s get after it.” June picked up the phone. Mother said she’d be delighted. “I’d have suggested it myself, only I wasn’t sure how they’d feel. Tell you what, honey. We’re celebrating Uncle Dale’s birthday at Grandma s Sunday. Why don’t you bring them along?” A weight dropped off their hearts and should have stayed off. But as Sunday neared, they began having ulcers again. En route to Grandma’s, even Evvie fell silent. They arrived before Mother, which was like a reprieve. By the time she got there, June was safe in the bedroom, ear glued to the keyhole, while Evvie peeked through a slit in the doorway. Mother went straight to Florence, said how glad she was to see her and how well she looked, then turned to Dad. “Hello, Fred.” “Hello, Marie.” Evvie saw them clasp hands and smile. “I’d like to tell you that I’m very proud of our daughters.” A thrill raced through the girls. It was so obviously a tribute to Mother, generous and warm. With the same kind of warmth she accepted it. “Thank you, Fred,” and shifted to a lighter note. The ice was broken. From kitchen and bedroom two stray daughters wandered forth. The girls held their usual post mortem. “For the first time today,” said June, “I realized that they’re not just Mother and Daddy, but two individuals with their own lives to lead.” “And we’re a couple of dopes. Building a whole situation where there wasn’t any. Making a big deal out of nothing.” At the studio, fearful lest Florence and Dad return with shattered illusions, Evvie briefed them beforehand. “There’s one term we never use, and that’s movie star. June’s not a movie star to us or herself. Maybe you expect a lot of glamour. If you do, June’ll let you down.” Luck was with them that day. Often the sets are closed, or only one picture is going and there’s nobody around. But Twentieth Century-Fox did itself proud for the Stovenours from Memphis. On one stage they heard a great symphony orchestra, on another they watched a comedy scene. For a night-club sequence, they saw Susan Hayward do take after weary take, and saw with it the grind behind the glitter of movies. The name on a dressing room brought Dad to a halt. “Now there’s a girl I’d like to meet. I’ve always kept track of her because you two started out in the same picture.” June knocked. “Come in,” said Jeanne Crain, who was lying on the couch, knitting. June introduced her guests, they chatted for a few minutes and left. Behind his specs, Dad’s eyes twinkled. “Ewie was right. What’s glamorous about knitting?” The last night of all, when Florence and Dad took them to dinner at the Beachcombers, and spoke simply of the lovely time they’d had, without making a fuss. “I hope it won’t be twelve more years,” said June. “We won’t let it be. Next year Bobby’s due for another operation. Maybe after that.” Evvie said: “I’d like to see the boys.” Dad paused for a moment, as if to shape his thoughts. “Those little boys think of you as their sisters. But there’s a time for everything. They’re about the age you two were when the break came. They don’t quite realize what it means to share their father. But the day will present itself when we can all be friends.” It was like an echo out of their vanished childhood. Nothing can change my love for you. Nobody else can take your place with me. It was like a pledge renewed. This isn’t the story of an emotional binge. The Haver girls don’t take to selfdramatization. June lets you have things straight. Ewie underplays. They reject any nonsense about a lost father found again. They write to him no more frequently than they used to. “It wouldn’t be honest,” says June. “We don’t have that many memories to share.” Evvie says: “Gush embarrasses me. I don’t feel gushy about Dad. I feel, here’s a good friend and always will be.” June smiles softly. “I don’t mind being the sentimental one. We all parted, loving each other more. I don’t know whether that’s gush or not. I know it’s the truth.” The End 100