All the Stars in the Heavens (51 page)

Loretta's first instinct was to go to Clark, to find him, hold and comfort him. She remembered Tom Lewis, and knew she couldn't.

“Should we drive out to the ranch?” Roz wondered. She had made two movies with Gable and adored him.

“Let's call first,” Irene said.

“No, there's nothing we can do for her now. We need to take care of these men,” Loretta said. “We made a promise.”

Irene and Roz looked at one another.

“I guess that's what Carole would do,” Irene said.

“I'll call my husband. Freddie will go over to be with Clark,” Roz said.

Loretta took the stage and made an announcement, “Gentlemen, I'd like us to pray for Carole Lombard. She was grand, talented, and an excellent wife to our good friend Clark Gable. She was also a great American. She served her country splendidly.”

The entire canteen cheered for Carole Lombard.

Loretta's rival Carole really hadn't been one. Lombard had grabbed Gable as she had grabbed everything in her life—with joy, relish, and determination. Beyond that, Loretta didn't know what to feel.

Roz Russell went onstage and took the microphone. “She was a great girl. No one liked to laugh and dance more than Carole. So please, let's enjoy the band for the rest of the night—let's celebrate in honor of Carole Lombard.”

The band began to play, and Loretta remembered her promise to dance with the soldier. She took him by the hand, and they went back to the dance floor.

Spencer Tracy requisitioned a car to drive him to Las Vegas to be with his friend Gable. As he climbed into the sedan, he was trailed by a group of studio executives, grousing that he was holding up production, but he was intent on his mission.

He sank low in the back seat, pulled the brim of his fedora over his eyes, and went to sleep.

At the Las Vegas airport, Spencer climbed out of the car. It was a simple hangar, one that he was familiar with, as they had run drills there for
Test Pilot
, a film he had made with his friend. There were murmurs and whispers from bystanders as Spence pushed his way through the crowd and into the waiting room before a policeman stopped him.

“Sir, I have to ask you to wait outside.”

“Like hell. Tell Gable Spence is here.”

The cop recognized the actor and let him past the ropes. Tracy took a deep breath as he turned the corner. Gable was standing, looking out the window, his back to the studio flacks who had shown up as soon as word of the plane crash was out. Tracy went to him and put his hand on Gable's shoulder.

“Buddy,” Tracy said softly.

“I told her to wait,” Gable whispered. “But she wanted to get home.”

“It was an accident.”

“Her mother was with her. And about twenty-five soldiers.”

“Oh, God,” Tracy muttered.

“Otto was with them too.”

Tracy put his arm around Gable. Otto Winker was Gable's publicist, but he was also his friend.

“They won't let me up the mountain.”

“You shouldn't go.”

“But I want to see, with my own eyes. I want to see if they're telling me the truth.”

“I'm sorry.”

“She was a good girl.”

“The best.”

“Never gave me any trouble. She was my life. We laughed all the time.”

“She loved you.”

“I don't know what to do.”

“We wait.” Tracy didn't have a plan for his friend. That night, all he could do was stand with him. When the park rangers rescue unit arrived, Gable insisted on going with them. Spence felt that Gable should not be alone, so he accompanied him. They loaded into an army jeep and drove up the mountain, as far as they could go, until the snow and rain made it impossible for them to see.

Gable sat in the front seat and did not say a word as the driver navigated the rough road. Spencer tried to keep the chatter up with the rangers, if only to take pressure off Gable.

Gable had finally found happiness. He had pursued it ardently, as men do. He was satisfied with Carole; they loved all the same things, and she spun a dream of home life that he had found irresistible. Gable wanted a simple, comfortable, agreeable life. The woman who had provided that lovely life, who had waited for him, suffered through the years of Ria's waffling, the girl who had made him laugh when he was at his lowest, had left him, having suffered a brutal death, the picture of which he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Carole Lombard, who had brought the light, was now responsible for Clark Gable's deepest despair.

Tracy was unable to provide any comfort that night to Gable. He stood by his friend through the worst of it, unable to say or do anything to assuage his grief. Gable would remember little of that night, but when he thought of it, he would remember Spence, who stood by him like the brother he never had. Whatever warmth there was, Tracy provided it, but Gable couldn't feel it. He watched Gable's spirit die that night. His soul left him, and behind it was only darkness, and a kind of quiet fury that would mark Gable for the rest of his life.

Loretta spun around in the chair at the beauty parlor in the Waldorf Astoria and faced her friend Myrna Loy.

“Hair looks good,” Loretta told Myrna. “You look like a movie star.”

“Good, maybe I can rattle some of these New York society types to plunk down some money for the boys. How are those nails?”

“Short. I spent too much time in the garden before we got here.” Loretta looked at her hands. “What time are we due at the Stork Club?”

“Eight.”

“It's gonna be a late night.”

“Live a little. Your husband's in California, right?”

“Yep.”

“So it's just us girls.”

“That's how I like it, Myrna. Safer that way.”

“I hope you don't mind, I invited Mr. Gable up to my suite for drinks.”

“What's he doing here?”

“He joined the army.”

“You mean it?”

“Yep. Enlisted. Said that's what Carole would have wanted.”

“But he's forty-two years old.”

“They took him.” Myrna looked at her friend. “If it's too much, if you can't handle it, I can cancel the drinks.”

“Don't do that.”

“You know, I understand.” Myrna sat down next to Loretta. “You'll never get over him.”

“I'm married now,” Loretta said firmly.

“Marriage is one thing, love is another.” Myrna sighed. “I'm taking my third shot at it, so I should know.”

“Experience counts.” Loretta smiled.

“Let me ask you something. Are you over him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is Gable out of your blood?”

“I don't know how to answer that.”

“I knew it. He isn't.”

“We have a long history, Myrna.”

“Those are the stories that get you. In real life and the movies.”

“It hasn't been anything like a movie. It's been all too real. Too much pain and compromise and longing, frankly. All of it rolled into
one. And I haven't handled it very well. I tried, but I couldn't. If you don't mind, I'll skip the drinks and meet you at the club.”

“I'm sorry.” Myrna gave Loretta a hug. “He asked to see you. But I can make up an excuse.”

“He asked for me?” Loretta's heart filled with sadness.

“Yes, he did.”

“Don't cancel the drinks.”

“Whatever you say.”

Myrna only ever had one side in a fight. She was on the side of love. She knew it would do Gable good to see Loretta, and she already knew what it meant to Loretta to have been invited.

Myrna's suite at the Waldorf was decorated in peach, a perfect backdrop for a classic redhead. There were several flower arrangements set around the room, filled with calla lilies, daisies, and peach roses.

Loretta knocked on the door. Myrna opened the door and whistled.

“Sister, you know how to work a pencil skirt.”

Loretta wore a black velvet skirt and a white silk blouse with billowing sleeves. Her hair was down and loose, as were the strings of pearls she had thrown casually around her neck.

“Follow me. Captain Gable is here.”

“Captain? How quickly he went up the ladder!”

Gable stood in his uniform by the bay window that overlooked Park Avenue. There was white hair at his temples, and the lines on his face, once lightly etched by the sun, were now deep. There was no other way to describe it; he was a man consumed by grief.

Loretta went to Gable and embraced him. His uniform was made of thick wool, the buttons polished, strictly utilitarian, the opposite of the fine silk suits that were custom made for him at the studio.

“I'm gonna leave you two kids alone—I got an interview to do.”

Loretta looked at Myrna, who winked at her and left.

“I'm so sorry about Carole.”

“Don't know how to go on.” Gable looked out the window at nothing in particular.

“Hey. It's me. You can talk to me.” Loretta led him to the sofa.

They sat down. She put her arms around him, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

“I was afraid you'd throw me out the window after the last argument we had.”

“That was on me, Gretchen. I handled everything wrong.”

“Let's split the agony. It's better for both of us that way. Now, tell me about Carole.”

“It's my fault. I told I missed her and wanted her home. So she arranged the plane. When I heard about the weather, I told her to take the train, but she wanted to get home.”

“She wanted to get home to you. That's love.”

“She lost her life over it.”

“She didn't know that was going to happen, and neither did you. Besides, circumstances don't matter. She loved you.”

“And I loved her. We had so many plans.”

“Why did you sign up?”

“I can't go back to the life I had before. I hope they get me, Gretchen.”

“Don't say that. You're still a young man.”

“Older than you.”

“I'm an old married lady now.”

“Still my girl.”

“I will always be your girl. And you should see Judy. She's a delight.”

“When I get back, I'll come and see her.”

“I hope so.”

They sat in silence for a long while, until he began to weep.

Loretta held him tight. It was as if she was holding on to him for dear life, to save him. She laced her fingers through his, and he held on. They were forever intertwined, connected, wedded to one another in some deep way that was instantly familiar and somehow impossible.

In what seemed like a lifetime ago, she remembered a conversation she had with Spencer Tracy. When the worst happens, he'd said, there is nothing you can say, nothing you can do, except show up. Loretta caressed her old lover's face with the tenderness of a mother. Even that wasn't enough; all she could do was hold him and wait for the darkness to pass.

What she felt for Gable wasn't youthful passion, or the longing within the lonely moments of a good marriage for something outside it, something a woman imagines to be better; what Loretta felt was something completely new to her. Loretta had a deep and abiding love for Gable that was deeper than romance, more lasting than physical passion. It was history. It was love over the expanse of many years. It had grace and meaning. It was spiritual, and it mattered to both of them. They shared equally in their mistakes and missteps, but underneath their shortcomings was always an understanding that the other had the capacity to forgive. Loretta felt gratitude that she could be there for him, and Gable, for that day, felt less alone.