All the Stars in the Heavens (47 page)

Loretta wanted to believe her mother, but she knew better. Luck would have been if her father had decided to stay.

A postulant pushed through the garden gate, carrying a folded piece of paper. She gave the paper to Mother Superior, who read it and then brought it to Loretta.

“A message from Alda.”

Loretta unfolded the paper: “C.G. unable to make trip to S.F. Has reshoots.”

Loretta put the note in her pocket. She went to her daughter and joined in a party game of hot potato. She wouldn't let Judy's father ruin the party.

Jack Conway stood in a horse barn built in the middle of the MGM sound stage. As they loaded the horses into their stalls, Gable stopped to pat a palomino, who nuzzled her nose into Gable's neck.

“I sure wish that was me,” Hattie said to her makeup artist as she stood in her reclining chair, getting a touch-up of powder.

“We all do,” the young woman said to Hattie.

Jean Harlow passed them in a riding costume. “Good morning, ladies.”

Hattie watched Harlow as she joined Gable on the set. “Those two are like dynamite. Tick. Tick. And. Boom.”

“Chemistry is everything.”

“You know it. Without it, we'd all be out of a job.”

Hattie was still watching Gable and Harlow when she saw Harlow's knees buckle as she fainted. Gable caught her and looked around for a place to set her down, as the makeup team came running.

“We need a doctor!” Gable shouted. He picked Harlow up in his arms. Harlow's head fell limply against his arm. “Come on, sis,” Gable said in Harlow's ear.

Hattie kept her eyes on Harlow. Sometimes Hattie got a feeling, an inkling of something to come, a voice that whispered softly in her ear; sometimes she even dreamed it. This morning, something told her that they would never finish
Saratoga.

Loretta carried Judy as she and Gladys followed Mother Superior into her office. Mother had the paperwork to release Judy ready on her desk. The radio played softly in the background—a baseball game out of Sacramento with DiMaggio at bat—as Mother Superior handed Loretta a pen. Just then the programming was interrupted.

From Hollywood, an Associated Press report has been filed from Metro Goldwyn Mayer studios; Jean Harlow collapsed in the arms of Clark Gable on the set of
Saratoga
earlier this morning. No word on Harlow's condition.

Mother Superior, who knew Judy's history, placed her hand on the document. “Would you like to take a moment, Loretta?”

“No, I'm fine,” she said as she signed the paper. “Pray for Jean, will you, Sister?”

Alda was waiting at Sunset House when Loretta, Gladys, and Judy arrived home. Judy was fast asleep in Loretta's arms as Alda followed them up the stairs to the new nursery.

Gladys had set up a room for Judy, decorated with wallpaper that featured dancing elephants, leaping zebras, and acrobats. She'd had a cheerful bright yellow satin coverlet made for the bed. There were books and toys on the shelves, and, in the window, a collection of small clay pots with green sprouts.

“Might as well get used to the Hollywood circus right away,” Loretta said as she tucked the blankets around her sleeping daughter.

“It's a high-wire act,” Alda agreed.

Alda followed Loretta down to the kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot of the baby's room, Alda confided, “I spoke with Mr. Gable.”

“And what did he have to say?”

“He said he'd come and see Judy here at home.”

“Well, he hasn't honored any of his previous promises, so let's not count on this one.”

“I thought for sure he'd make the drive up to San Francisco. I'm sorry.”

“Alda, it isn't you. I don't know what I would do without you.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that. Now that Judy is home, I think it's time for me to move on.”

“Oh, Alda, you can't.” Loretta began to cry. “I'm sorry, of course you can. It's your decision. I just don't know what I would do. You save my life every day in a hundred little ways.”

“And you took me on, out of the convent. I didn't even own a pair of decent shoes. You have provided a life for me that was beyond my imagination. I met Luca through you—had I not been on that train, I doubt I would have ever met him and fallen in love with the finest man I know. I owe you everything. But it's a heavy load to carry a secret. I worry for Judy's future, and yours.”

“You've been through so much, Alda. If this is hard for you, to be around Judy, I understand.” Loretta was sensitive to the fact that Alda couldn't have children of her own.

“It's not that. I love her. All the trips, watching her grow. I would miss her terribly.”

“Then stay. Is there some way I could make the job better for you? Thanks to you, Judy was safe for a very long time. And now she's home. Now we can plan the rest of our lives—and you can plan yours. The gossip has died down. There are always rumors in Hollywood, and a new scandal is right around the corner. We won't be bothered, I promise you. I want you to travel home to Italy again—to do things you want to do. But I'm also selfish—I don't want to lose you. How about we trade more time off for you to stay? And a raise too!”

Alda laughed. “I'm well paid.”

“Not enough. I don't want you to be tempted by anyone else stealing you away.”

As Alda got into her car that night to make the drive over the mountain, home to Luca, she thought about her conversation with Loretta, the raise and the time off. It would go a long way to give her the new perspective she needed in her life. She and Luca had put off making a decision about adopting children of their own. He had immersed himself in projects at the studio, and she was busy with Loretta's obligations. Alda would always have to work; why not stay with people she cared about?

Loretta didn't want anyone to steal Alda away, Alda thought, the way Gable had been stolen away by Lombard. It was so odd how their lives intersected, with neither Alda or Loretta getting exactly what they hoped for, and yet they had everything because they trusted each other.

Loretta tiptoed into Judy's room and kissed her. She placed her hand on Judy's heart and said a Hail Mary. After months of heartache, Loretta felt redeemed. She had her baby home.

In her room, Loretta opened the French doors and the windows. She drew a bath, and was about to sink into the bubbles when the phone rang.

“Can you come to Good Samaritan?”

“Myrna?”

“Loretta, can you come to the hospital?” Myrna Loy was a sensible woman. She delivered the best of news and the worst with the same solid midwestern cadence.

“What's wrong? Are you all right?”

“Not me, hon. Jean Harlow is gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“She died tonight.”

“Poor Jean.”

“They didn't see it coming. It was a bad infection. It took her.”

“Myrna, is Clark there?”

“He's a mess. That's why I called. He could use a friend. Hurry.”

Loretta pulled on a skirt, sweater, and loafers. Clark Gable had confided his feelings about Loretta to Myrna, who had always been a good friend. Myrna let Loretta know Clark's feelings, and without prying, let Loretta know that she was always available to talk. Loretta believed that Myrna was her most trustworthy friend. Myrna knew about Judy, and never engaged in any gossip about her. She kept an eye on Gable for Loretta, because she believed they belonged together.

“Mama, I'm going to the hospital. Will you look in on Judy?”

“What happened?”

“Jean Harlow died.”

Jean Harlow was only a few years older than Loretta, at twenty-six—too young to die. On the way to the hospital, scenarios ran through Loretta's head, but mostly she was worried about Gable. He'd been with Jean when she collapsed; he had to be devastated. All of Loretta's thoughts went to Gable—how she would comfort him through this terrible time.

Loretta pushed through the doors of Good Samaritan Hospital. She never used her name to get results, but tonight was different. She knew there would be security around Jean's room, so she marched up and told them that Myrna Loy was expecting her. A security guard escorted her to the fourth floor. When they got off the elevator, Loretta could see a crowd outside Jean's room. She broke into a run when she saw the back of Gable's head. When she got closer, she stopped.

Gable was holding Carole Lombard, who was weeping. The sight of him comforting her made her stomach turn. Where had he been in her dark hours of despair? Where was his heart when his daughter was in the convent in San Francisco, hidden away because he wouldn't get a divorce? Loretta felt rage rise within her. It wasn't that Gable had chosen another; it was that he refused to acknowledge that he had chosen at all.

Loretta found herself turning so that Gable would not catch a glimpse of her. She pushed through the door and ran down the stairs and back out to her car. She would call Myrna and apologize in the morning, but she couldn't face Gable that night. She saw with her own eyes that Gable had moved on. The days of deluding herself that he loved her were over. Carole Lombard was going to be the next Mrs. Gable, and Loretta wouldn't have to read it in
Photoplay
to believe it.