All the Stars in the Heavens

  “That’d switch up the plot.” Hattie chuckled.

  “I’ll put it in the safe.” The dresser slipped it onto her own finger before giving Hattie’s crisp black uniform a once-over with the lint brush. “May I get you anything, Miss McDaniel?”

  “I’m all right.”

  Hattie stood quietly off-camera as Clark Gable took his mark. The cinematographer checked Gable’s light in the gauge. If MGM was a museum, Hattie looked at Gable like the statue of David. Whatever he had, she liked it. And while Hattie enjoyed her work, she looked forward to working with Gable because they had as much fun between takes as they did when acting.

  “Hattie, five-card stud?”

  “I’ll beat you like eggs and sugar, Mr. Gable. And when I’m done, there’ll be a pie on the table, and you’ll be under it crying.”

  “Meet me in my dressing room.”

  “We’ll have to keep the door open.”

  “And two feet on the floor,” Gable teased.

  “I have control of my impulses,” Hattie said.

  The crew erupted in laughter.

  “Well, I don’t,” Gable said, and got an even bigger rolling laugh from the crew.

  “That’s what I heard, King. That’s what I heard.” Hattie chuckled.

  Gable’s costar, Jean Harlow, lean, small, and shaped like a violin, wore a fitted gingham day dress and gloves as she sauntered into the scene. Her trademark platinum blonde hair looked like tufts of white cotton candy. Harlow was a glamorous shopgirl type. Her features were ordinary—small lips and eyes, and a nose that was neither retroussé like Myrna Loy’s nor razor-straight like Joan Crawford’s. But it was Harlow’s imperfections that made her a beauty; she had a wide-open face, and she sparkled. She used her soft body like a prop, wrapping it around furniture and men.

  Harlow was trailed by an entourage of hair, makeup, and costume assistants, who checked every seam so the satin lay flat against her body without a wrinkle. “Are you two at it again?” She grinned at Gable and then Hattie.

  “We’ll cut you in, sis,” Gable assured her.

  Jean pointed her thumb at Gable. “I’m his sis when he wants to bankrupt me at cards.”

  “You can take him,” Hattie said to Jean. “You’re a killer card sharp. You’ll pluck him clean.”

  “Then she’s out,” Gable joked. “I don’t like to lose.”

  “You know how to play Gable, right in the wallet.” Harlow winked at Hattie.

  “I’d give everything I had to you ladies.”

  “Too late for that. Wife number two already has her mitts on your stash,” Harlow joked.

  “Jean, take your mark. You look marvelous,” Jack Conway said from behind the camera.

  “Just so you know, I won’t make another movie without these two. Jack, did you hear that? Call L. B. and tell him.”

  “Running a rehearsal,” the first assistant director announced.

  Saratoga was a dream shoot: a strong script, a cast filled with old friends, and a sage director who enjoyed his work. The players looked forward to coming to the studio, and Hattie and Gable took turns hosting lunch in their dressing rooms. Jean took the company out to dinner at the Mocambo. Most shoots weren’t this much fun, but Saratoga made up for them. It helped that the movie they were making was a good one. Conway ran a smooth ship, and the company was right on schedule.

  “Oh, you big bear of a thing.” Hattie looked down at her cards and up at Gable, trying to read him. “You don’t let on.”

  “Poker face,” Gable said, making one.

  Hattie laughed. “Here’s mine.” Hattie made a face.

  Gable laughed. “Nobody makes me laugh like you.”

  “You need to find a woman that cracks you up.” Hattie shuffled the cards.

  “I have one.”

  “I’ll bet you have twelve.”

  “I don’t like to bore anybody, Hattie. A little of me goes a long way, so I have to spread it around.”

  “You don’t think very highly of yourself.”

  “I know my limits, let’s put it that way.” Gable picked up a card.

  “How’s your divorce coming?”

  “How’s yours?”

  “Husband number three packed his bags a week ago last Friday. I should be ashamed.”

  “Are you?”

  “Not really. I learn a little something with each husband. Not enough to fill a book, but enough not to feel guilty when I move on.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it. But I don’t learn anything, I just get mad.”

  “That’s bad for your heart.” Hattie studied her cards. “Don’t let love make you angry. It’ll kill you. You gonna marry Miss Lombard?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I just did a picture with her. She sure as hell wants to marry you.”

  Gable laughed. “She does, does she?”

  “You better dust off the old top hat. She’s gonna want a white-tie-and-tails situation.”

  “Well, she won’t get it.”

  “How is it I know more about what makes you happy than the woman you’re in love with?”

  “You pay attention, Hattie. You’re observant.”

  “I’d go for you, but you’re the wrong shade.”

  “I’d go for you, but you’d grow tired of me, Hattie.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not one for church.”

  “You have to go to church if you want to be with me. And if you wanna make me real happy, you have to sing in the choir.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “But I’m not for you either. I don’t go for hunting and fishing and farming. You need a girl who can handle a rifle. I’ve never held a gun in my life. And I’m from Kansas City.”

  “I could teach you.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t want to learn. I am not the outdoor type.”

  “Maybe you’d like it. Nothing like the woods.”

  “I want my mink from the store. Not from some trap I set myself.”

  Gable laughed. “All right, Hattie. We’ll stay indoors.”

  “I don’t do Westerns, if you’ve noticed. Of course, there’s not a lot of call for black people in Westerns.”

  “We take the roles they give us, whether they are written in your color or my color.”

  “The best ones are written in your color, but that’s show business.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Jean is on the set,” Jack Conway said as he passed. “Let’s go, kids.”

  “I haven’t been called a kid since vaudeville,” Hattie said as she folded her cards.

  “Me either,” Gable said.

  Conway was blocking the scene with Harlow on the set. Hattie joined them, standing off to the side, awaiting her turn while Gable sat in the makeup chair and was powdered down.

  “Looking good, Gable,” Luca said as he wiped his hands on a rag.

  “Chet, where have you been?”

  “I’m working nights. Mr. Mayer has added two movies to the schedule. I’m doing a ballroom for Gibbons besides the hotel for Saratoga.”

  “Don’t they know you’re an artiste?”

  “They do, and they don’t care.”

  “How’s Alda?”

  “She’s just fine.” Chet looked at the makeup artist and hairstylist. “Might I speak with Mr. Gable alone?”

  “I think we’re done, ladies. This is about as good as this mug gets.”

  Gable’s makeup artist and hairstylist left for the set.

  “They’re bringing the baby home,” Luca said quietly.

  “Okay.”

  “She’ll be at Sunset House.”

  “I’m not welcome there.”

  “She’s your kid.”

  “Chet, you don’t know what’s going on.”

  “If you’ve moved on, just tell her.”

  “I can’t do anything definite because of Ria.”

  “She won’t be an excuse forever.”

  Luca was right. Gable
didn’t know what to say. Carole Lombard was direct and persistent and didn’t care about Ria. Carole gave him confidence. She made him feel that if he lost all his money and property in the divorce, he’d still be rich. Carole was carefree, and Loretta was not; she was an anchor. Gable had been moored in a bad marriage long enough. He didn’t want more responsibilities and obligations. He wanted a romantic relationship that was light and full of laughter—the one he had with Lombard.

  “Mr. Gable, we need you on the set,” the first assistant director called out.

  “They’re leaving in the morning,” Luca said softly. “Taking the train.”

  “I’ll take a drive up,” Gable promised. “I like the drive up the coast.”

  “I’ll let Alda know.”

  Luca smiled and patted his friend on the back. It was almost like old times. He couldn’t wait to tell Alda the good news.

  Loretta had taken the express train to San Francisco so many times over the past year to see her daughter that she swore she knew every bridge, rock, and tree along the tracks heading north. Gladys pulled the shade down on the window to block the hot California sun.

  “I’m glad you could come with me, Mama.”

  “My first grandchild is very special to me.”

  “Clark won’t believe how big she got.” Loretta was pleased that Judy’s father was going to make the trip. She wanted him to be there more than anything. Alda had sent directions to Saint Elizabeth’s through Luca, including the Mother Superior’s instructions to enter through the back of the convent where no one would see him.

  Gladys had hoped that by the time they arranged Judy’s adoption, Gable would have accepted his responsibility as the baby’s father and been on the train with Loretta.

  For her part, Gladys had tried to include Gable. Without Loretta’s knowledge, Gladys had set up a secret bank account for Judy in San Francisco. She’d called Gable and gave him the account information. He was polite, inquired about her health, the baby’s health, and Loretta’s, and hung up quickly. Gable had not made a deposit in the account. It wasn’t that the Youngs needed the money to care for the girl; Gladys wanted Gable to do something for his daughter, so one day she could tell Judy that her father had made an effort on her behalf from the start.

  Loretta folded the newspaper and handed it to her mother.

  Loretta Young is set to adopt twins from a San Francisco foundling hospital. The girls, named Jane and Judy, are robust and healthy at 23 months. The single Young couldn’t bear to wait for motherhood, as sisters Sally and Polly are new mothers. Loretta wanted children of her own, so the star decided to adopt. Further information will be kept private, due to the nature of the adoption.

  “What are you going to do about the twin?” Gladys asked.

  “When the time comes, I’ll say the birth mother wanted to keep her. That’s one smokescreen. The other is Judy’s age. She’s only twenty months old. If we admitted her real age, they would do the math, and then it would be all over. Louella promised she’d run photos when we were ready,” Loretta said. “But I don’t want to show photos of Judy to the public.”

  “She doesn’t have to be a secret any longer.”

  “Not to us. But to the world . . . yes, we have to keep her a secret. Clark is still a married man.”

  “What are you going to tell Judy?”

  “I don’t have to worry about that for a long time.”

  “Just because he’s with another woman doesn’t mean that he can’t be a part of Judy’s life.”

  A look of pain crossed Loretta’s face.

  Gladys took her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate of me. You still have feelings for him, don’t you?”

  “I know. Thick as plank, that’s me. I can’t get it through my head that he has moved on—I don’t want to believe it. But he has, and I can’t count on anything. I’ve learned not to—”

  “From me.”

  “Mama, it’s not your fault.”

  “I chose men that made beautiful babies and not much else.”

  “Well, I could say the same.”

  “You know, when Clark came to see me, I could see that he loved you. Now, I’m not saying that he knows how to love you, but just that he does.”

  “Doesn’t that come naturally? Loving someone?”

  “No. You can have all the feelings in the world for someone, and you may not know how to make them happy.”

  “Is there a man in this world who could be faithful?”

  “Sure.”

  “It hurts me that he wants Carole.”

  “It shouldn’t. That won’t last either.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He goes out with so many girls because he’s looking for something he lacks. He wants to have fun. Eventually that too will bore him. Once a man goes down the path that he is on, it’s very hard to love one woman. It’s a rush to be in love, then once that glow is gone, he’s gone. He’s chasing the glow.”

  “I thought we had it.”

  “You did. And now you have Judy. But she’s innocent. And she has to stay that way. She will be loved by our family, no matter what you decide.”

  “I did all right without Pa.”

  “You did. But you’ve always had a purpose. You aspired to a life. You meant to go to the top. That’s always been the way with you. Your daughter will appreciate that about you someday.”

  Loretta and Gladys walked into Saint Elizabeth’s, this time, with joy and a purpose. On Loretta’s prior visits, she’d been sad the moment she entered, anticipating the time when she would have to leave Judy. Not this time. This was it. Loretta was there to claim Judy, and there was no reason to arrive at night and leave in the darkness.

  Mother Superior led Judy by the hand out of her office.

  “My baby!” Loretta exclaimed as Judy ran toward her and into her arms. Loretta showered Judy with kisses. Her blond curls tumbled in spirals, and her smile was pure Loretta.

  “Here’s Grandma,” Loretta said, introducing Gladys officially for the first time.

  “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done, Sister.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, I might think of one or two. I hear you’ve raised some money for the Los Angeles diocese. We could use your help up here.”

  Loretta and Gladys laughed.

  “Whatever you need, Mother,” Loretta assured her.

  Loretta smoothed her daughter’s hair over her ears. She had her father’s ears, and they were so obvious, there was no way to hide them, except with a bonnet. Loretta anchored the bonnet on her daughter’s head and tied the ribbon under her chin.

  “Judy, honey, we’re going home. Can you say train?”

  “Train,” Judy repeated.

  Mother Superior and Loretta applauded.

  “There’s a birthday party for one of our little girls who’s leaving today. Is it all right with you if Judy attends?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Loretta and Gladys followed Mother Superior outside into the garden. The place was just as Alda had described. Loretta even remembered the bench where Alda sat as a novice when Mother Superior told her that she would never become a nun.

  “This is lovely.” Gladys took in the statuary and the fountain. “So peaceful.”

  A small group of children was gathered in the center of the garden. A nun passed out cardboard party hats, while novices in their habits juggled the children on their laps as they ate birthday cake. Loretta stood back with Gladys as Judy joined in, climbing up on a postulant’s lap to claim her slice of cake.

  “Do you think Judy will remember Saint Elizabeth’s?” Loretta asked Gladys.

  “They say you don’t remember anything before the age of three.”

  “I’ll never forget it. I hope we’ve done the right thing, Mama.”

  “We had no choice.”

  “The problem with a secret is that it requires maintenance. It’s a job to keep one.”

  “There will come a
day when it won’t be a secret any longer. You’ll be able to tell Judy everything.”

  “I hope so, Mama.”

  “Right now you can’t think about that. We have to get her home. Think about all she has waiting for her. Aunts and uncles who love her already. And think of her cousins her own age! She has a ready-made family. If you ask me, she’s a lucky girl.”

  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.