Yes I Can: The Story of Sammy Davis, Jr. (92 page)

May cut into her steak with gusto. “I must say that I like a real dining table instead of those crowded room service carts.”

“It’s just one of the little niceties your husband tries to arrange for his wife and friends. Incidentally, the Novacks are giving a closing night party tomorrow. And Frank got in today. He’s right down the hall and I told him we’d come by after the second tonight.” I beckoned for the waiter to serve my coffee. “I realize that you three have nothing to do but loaf around but
somebody
has to do some work around here.” I finished my coffee and stood up. “What’re you guys going to do?”

“You won’t believe it, Sammydavis, but one of my old pictures is playing in the hotel. We’re going to see it.
The Hunters”

I did an elaborate display of “aghast.” “Darling, you’re my wife and you’re beautiful and I love you, and I’m not saying you didn’t make some good pictures, but
that
wasn’t one of them. Are you really going to subject good friends to sitting through that atrocity? They could divorce us.”

Jane said, “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to.”

I glared at her. “In other words if I said ‘good morning’ to my wife you’d have a comment, right?”

“Well, I would if you said it at
this
hour.”

Burt said, “I’m going to stay up here and do the column.”

I smiled at him, knowingly, and looked at Jane. “But you really intend to go through with this?” She nodded and I sighed like Father Flanagan at Boys’ Town, “You’re not
all
bad, are you, Jane? There’s a little good in everybody, eh?”

It was four in the morning and the party was still going strong as we said good night to Frank and some other friends and walked down the hall to our own suite. May clung to my arm, especially pleased by something. “I never thought you’d leave a party at Frank’s so soon.”

“We sat with him, had some drinks, paid our respects—but he’s got other guests to spend time with, and he’s got his life and I’ve got mine.”

She’d sat down on the couch and was looking at me blankly, trying to conceal her pleasure, to treat the issue academically. “But do you miss the partying you could do if you were single?”

I raised an eyebrow at the flagrant playing of tell-me-how-happy-you-are, but she had a right to know. I sat beside her. “Darling, I developed my set of values the hard way. I’m completely, totally happy with what I’ve got.”

She nodded contentedly. “In other words, what you’re saying is you don’t envy Frank his freedom?”

“That’s what I’m saying. Although I don’t know why you need ‘other words.’ Isn’t one set enough?”

“But do you think …”

“I think you’ve had enough compliments for one night.” We sat there quietly, each thinking our own thoughts.

“Sammy? Did you have a good engagement here? Did you do as much business as you’d hoped?”

“More. It was unbelievable.”

“Did you do as well as last year?”

“I never did business like this in my life.”

She walked across the room and took an orange from a bowl. “Jane and Burt told me that business was great in Camden, and at the Copa, and Boston, and Pittsburgh—that you broke your own records.”

“I told you all that myself. Why did you have to ask them?” I smiled. “You checking up on me?”

She became very involved peeling the orange. “Well, I wasn’t really checking up …”

“Hey, I was only kidding—but you’re serious. Why would you have felt I wasn’t leveling with you?”

“Well … you
do
try to protect me and if you weren’t doing the kind of business you’d hoped, you might not tell me because I’d know it was because of me.” She sighed, “I must say I’m tremendously relieved,” and her smile was like that of somebody thinking back on a nightmare. “I sure would have hated it if you had to look around and see that what you built up for thirty years was falling apart because of me. I could picture you looking at me and thinking, ‘What did I need
her
for?’ ”

I took her in my arms. “You really thought it could make even the slightest difference in how I feel about you?” She nodded, but she didn’t look up. She was crying gently, unwinding after God knows how many days and nights of living with a fear which need never have existed. I stroked her head.

“May? Has it been worse than you expected it to be? I mean, rougher than you bargained for?”

She raised her face which had been buried in my shoulder. “Rough?” She was shaking her head slowly, with surprise, almost shock, at the question. “It hasn’t been rough at all. I love my husband and I know you love me. That’s all I want or care about.”

“Darling, that’s beautiful and you know I appreciate it, but let’s be honest, you didn’t go into this marriage thinking it was like Maryjane Smith marrying the boy next door.”

“Of course not.”

“How did you feel about people’s reactions to us?”

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t feel badly at the
idea
that people can feel what they do—but there was no point dwelling on it. I loved you, I intended to marry you, and that was that.”

“And you were able to just close the reactions out of your mind?”

“I tried to.” She lit a cigarette. “As long as we’re talking about it, frankly one thing I
have
felt badly about is that you feel you have to treat me as though I’m made out of glass, as though if somebody said something I’d just break apart.”

“May, if you’ve thought I was overprotecting you, why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I knew it was rotten for you to have to talk about it.”

“I had no idea you were so completely aware of it.”

“Once, after we were picketed in London, I thought maybe I would not marry you because it seemed almost a certainty that I’d ruin your career, and I understood its importance to you. That’s the only real fear I had.”

“Darling, if I never knew this before I know it now: if I walked out on a stage and there were only five people in the audience it wouldn’t be as important as knowing that you’re home waiting for me.”

There was a beautifully corny, full moon shining. I opened the door to the terrace and we stood at the rail, silently, together, absorbing the serenity and peacefulness of the early morning, enjoying the caress of breezes not yet warmed by a sun that was starting to break over an ocean rolling gently, quietly onto the deserted beach. I stood next to May experiencing the miracle of happiness and contentment a man can feel when he is aware that he can encircle his whole world within his two arms.

“Sammy … I’m having the pains …” I sat up in bed and turned on the light. Her eyes were closed. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

I jumped out of bed and got the stop watch. “Here, time them.”

She pressed the starter button. When she stopped the watch it was at two minutes and thirty-two seconds. “The doctor said I should call him when they’re coming every seven minutes.”

“Oh God. Don’t move. Just keep timing them.” I’d kept Dr. Steinberg’s number handy for the last two weeks. His answering service asked if it was an emergency and he called me back within five minutes.

I hung up and helped her out of bed. “Which dress do you want?”

“My blue and white check Jax.”

I dashed for the closet, got it, and rushed back to the bedroom.

She was sitting at her make-up table. “You’ve
got
to be
joking
. You’re having labor pains every two minutes and you’re sitting there putting on eye-liner? I don’t believe it. I really don’t believe it.” I knew I shouldn’t upset her so I got busy checking the small bag of things I’d had ready, the camera, film, cigarettes. I called Jane and Burt in the Playhouse. “Sorry to wake you guys up but you’d better get up here. We’re going to the hospital.” I called Rudy’s room and woke him, too.

May was back in bed. “You know something? I think it was a false alarm.” She nodded, satisfied that she was right.

“Darling, the doctor must know what he’s talking about. He’s a
doctor.”
I tried to keep calm so I wouldn’t frighten her, yet I had to get her moving. “May, we dare not delay. If they’re coming every two and half minutes then it’s like you’re almost ready to give birth. If we don’t hurry it could happen in the car.”

“But what if it’s a false alarm?”

“It’s worth the risk.
Please
, May, it’s a long ride over there and you could be in agony if you wait much longer.”

“Sammy, if I go and then find it’s too early I’ll have to stay there alone for extra days. At least if they had a room for you like we wanted, but to be there without you for no reason …”

“No reason! Oh God.”

She gasped. “Wait a minute. It’s starting again. Okay, you win. Oh
boy
they hurt!” I handed her the dress and checked my watch. Six forty-five. At least we’d beat the morning traffic.

She wasn’t moving to get out of bed. “I think they went away again.” She smiled and nodded. “Yes, definitely.”

“Darling,” I leaned against the wall, gnashing my teeth, “please! You’re killing me.” Rudy came rushing upstairs buttoning his shirt as he reached our room. I waved my arms at him. “Don’t bother, Rudy. Go back to sleep, baby. Or better still, just boil some water.”

He asked, “Are the pains coming close together?”

I told him.
“Only
every two and a half minutes.”

“Whew. That’s too close.”

Jane and Burt came dashing in. I held up my hands. “Relax, fellas. It’s all off. She’s decided against it.”

May started moving off the bed. “Okay, I’ll go, but if I have to wait around there a week before anything happens—”

“Darling, let’s worry about that later, huh? Rudy, start the car, we’ll be out right away.”

Jane asked, “Aren’t you coming?”

I stared at her, incredulous. “Jane, what kind of a stupid question is
that
? No! I’m going to let my wife go to the hospital to have our baby without me. Are you out of your mind?”

She gave me one of those looks like she knew she was going to be in trouble. “Are you going like that?”

The three of them were struggling to keep straight faces. I was still in my pajamas. I shook my fist at them and ran for some clothes, feeling like a cartoon character. I was dressed in three minutes and we were ready to leave.

May said, “Let’s have a cup of coffee.”

Jane gasped. “Coffee? Now?”

I smiled broadly. “Of course. I should have thought of it myself. And crumpets. You’ll read about us in tomorrow’s papers: ‘the mother and child are doing fine, the father is dead.’ ”

But we sat in the living room, drinking coffee, like a bunch of lunatics.

May said, “Shouldn’t we tell Mama?”

“No. Let her sleep. Rudy can come back for her later.”

It was eight o’clock when I helped May into the front seat of the car. “Sit in the back with Jane and Burt, Rudy. I want to know that I drove my wife to the hospital.” I pulled out of the driveway and down the hill creeping along at fifteen miles an hour, trying to avoid bumps in the road.

“Maybe you’d better go a little faster, Sammy.”

“Oh,
now
you think maybe it’s not a false alarm?” I turned left on Sunset and stepped it up a little, trying to keep the car at an even speed.

May said, “Oh, boy,” and clenched her fists.

“Hold on, darling, we’re halfway there!”

She sounded angry, “Boy! If I’d known this was going to happen today I’d have had a hot fudge sundae last night. Now I’ll have to start dieting right away.” We stopped at a light and she opened the window and spoke to a woman waiting for a bus, “Hello, there! I’m having a baby.”

I blew three lights because the car in front of me was doing twenty miles an hour and I was afraid to weave in and out of lanes to pass him. “Just my luck to get behind an imbo in a Nash Rambler.” I pulled into the emergency arrival area of Cedars of Lebanon at eight-twenty and stopped as close to the door as I could. May pointed to a sign.

“We’re not parking, darling. Rudy’ll move it.” I helped her out of the car and we walked slowly to the front desk. A nurse was waiting for us. “Come with me, Mrs. Davis.”

“How about me?”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to take care of some details down here and then you can wait in the Expectant Fathers Room.”

I hadn’t expected I’d have to leave her so soon. I held her face in my hands and kissed her forehead, the elevator doors closed and she was gone.

I was shown into a small waiting room outside the maternity ward. “You can sit here until Mrs. Davis gives birth. I’m afraid no one but the fathers are permitted in here, though, so your friends will have to wait downstairs.”

I lit a cigarette and waited.

Dr. Steinberg came in. “May is in wonderful condition. It won’t be long. You’ll have only a few hours to wait.”

“But everything’s okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I’ll send someone out occasionally to keep you posted.”

I went downstairs and sat with Jane and Burt in the lobby. Rudy came in. “I just heard it on the radio in the car.”

We’d been there less than an hour. Somebody from the hospital must have called the station. “Baby, call Hugh Benson and make sure he knows and call Arthur and Jim and tell them.”

I went back upstairs to the waiting room and called my father.

“I’m on my way, Poppa.”

I hung up smiling at the excitement in his voice, happy that he could see this day. I dialed Will’s number. “Good morning, Massey. You’re about to become a grandfather.”

Frank would still be sleeping. I’ll wait until noon when he gets over to the set. Maybe the baby’ll be born by then.

A doctor came into the waiting room and told me everything was going along fine. I looked at my watch. An hour had passed. It was ten-thirty. I concentrated with all my strength, trying to reach May through telepathy.

Dr. Steinberg entered the room. A surgical mask covered all of his face but his eyes. I was afraid to speak. He took off the mask. He was smiling. “You’ve got a beautiful baby girl.” He was extending his hand to me. “May came through it beautifully. It was a very smooth, simple birth. I’ll send for you shortly.”

I sat down. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, a montage of scenes swirling through my head.
“How do you do? I’d like you to meet my wife and our daughter Tracey.” … “Why, yes, I just happen to have a picture here.” … “That’s our daughter there, the pretty one in the red convertible …”
I saw her growing up and going to school and I panicked because I wouldn’t be able to help her with her homework … I saw her graduating from college at the head of her class and bringing her boy friend home for me to be jealous of … I was buying her things, walking hand in hand with her and May through Disneyland … standing on a stage singing my songs to her, throwing myself in front of a car to save her, and slipping into her room to kiss her good night every evening.