I almost didn't answer it, but I glanced at the caller-ID and noticed the area code was from Los Angeles. Madeleine usually calls from her cell phone, but sometimes she calls from the dorm room, and I couldn't remember the number. I thought it might be her, so I answered the phone."
She laughed and said, "I expected to hear her voice but instead I heard a baritone chuckle. Luke said, 'You know, you should make sure a person is healthy before you mail letters that could give a man a coronary.'
"My heart skipped a beat or two... or seven ..., and I had to catch my breath. His voice still sounds like sandpaper rubbing together."
"I said something ridiculous like, 'Oh my God. I never thought I'd hear your voice again. Or, at least not without having to pay for a movie ticket.'
"He said, 'Who's choice was that?'"
"I apologized and started to cry. Then I stopped thinking how stupid it would be to cry over something that happened more than thirty years ago."
"He didn't respond immediately. Eventually, he said, 'I didn't understand for a long time. I was hurt and angry. I was more angry at first, to be honest. The hurt came later. Shortly after you dumped me, I married an actress I met in a night club. It was a classic rebound relationship. She was a nice kid, but she was too young and not strong enough for me. She couldn't stand up to me. We had a couple of kids. The kids were great. The wife not so much. We got a divorce after only five years. After that, I resumed my womanizing ways. More correctly, I continued my womanizing ways because I never stopped seeing other women even while I was married to Janice.
"'After our divorce, I continued to relentlessly pursue my dual careers as an A-list Hollywood star and as a latter day Casanova - that is until I met Lisa.
"'I fell in love with her, hard and fast, just like I did with you. We got married and it was good. She was not like you, but our relationship was the nearest thing I ever found to what I think you and I might have had. She couldn't have kids, but she was good with my kids, better than their own mother, to be honest. She was a funny, kind and loving woman in private, but she was painfully shy. She had a speech impediment and absolutely would not appear in public if there was any possibility she might have to say anything. After a few years, we arrived at a compromise. I pursued my acting career with the same relentless single-mindedness I always had and made all my public appearances alone. She stayed home and in the background. She liked it that way. When I was at home we devoted ourselves to one another in private.
"'At first, I rebelled against that kind of marriage. I tried to push her into the limelight. I wanted her to share the spotlight with me, but she refused. We had some tremendous fights about that, let me tell you. I wanted a public wife who would share my public life. She was happy to let me take all the accolades. She actually was one of my biggest fans and cheerleaders. She just didn't want to join my world. That pissed me off a lot, but eventually I gave in to her, because I saw how terrified she was by the prospect of being thrust into the spotlight.
"'As I watched her struggle with her fear of the spotlight it finally dawned on me why you ran away. That was when I finally forgave you. It took a while, but eventually I reached the point that I could think about how much I loved you without being distracted by how much I hated what you did. I gradually came to understand that you did what you had to do for your own emotional safety. Maybe you were right. I'm pretty sure that if I had ever discussed it with Lisa she would have said you absolutely did the right thing. I never discussed it with her because I didn't want to hear that.
"'Lisa had multiple sclerosis which gradually crippled her. She ultimately died of a heart attack, but that was only after she was almost completely incapacitated. I stayed home and took care of her, except for when I was working. She always understood that my work came before everything. For the last year and a half of her life I didn't work at all. I stayed home and spent virtually every minute with her. I think I made her happy. She certainly made me feel that I did. She made me happy, too. I loved her. I think I loved her in all the right and decent and honorable ways that made me understand even more clearly why you couldn't just drop everything and follow me to LA."
"He paused for a while, cleared his throat and then said, very gently, 'I take it the man you married has passed away or we probably would not be having this conversation.'
"'Yes. He died two years ago after suffering with cancer for a long time.'
"'Were you happy with him?'
"'Yes. Yes, I was happy with him. Your question is: was I as happy with him as I would have been with you? I thought about that a thousand times. I think the answer to that is that it is like comparing apples and oranges. Or maybe, more accurately comparing fourth of July sparklers to explosive high-flying fireworks. I loved Henry. He was a good husband. I was a good wife to him. I really was. I loved him and I miss him now that he is gone. But I never loved him the way I loved you. And I never stopped loving you. Not for a moment.
"'I want you to know that I have worn the necklace you sent me after you won the award at Cannes for When The Bombs Came Down every day from the day I received it. I told Henry that Christa gave it to me. I put it on and never took it off again.'
"'What about the pearls?'
"'I told Henry they came from Papa's family. I don't wear them every day, but I wear them whenever I get dressed up.'
"'I never lied to Henry about anything else. But, every day of my life for more than thirty years I wore a piece of jewelery that came from you. You were never far from my thoughts. Ever.'
"He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, almost to himself, 'Nor you from mine. Janice knew I was in love with someone else. At first she said she didn't care. Maybe she didn't. After a while, it became a problem. She felt she could never measure up to you and she didn't even know who you were. She was never jealous of the other women I screwed around with, but she was always jealous of the person she always referred to as my Muse.'
"'Lisa knew there was someone in my past who was the love of my life. She was okay with that, provided I was faithful to her during our marriage. And I was. It was weird for me, but I was faithful to her for more then twenty years.' He chuckled, 'I don't tell that to just anybody; it's bad for my image, but it turned out not to be as difficult as I feared it would be.'
"'Lisa died about a year and a half ago. I assumed that nobody would want to go out with an old goat like me, but I was wrong about that. I am old, but I am still a reasonably healthy man. As much as it pains me to admit it, I'm sure my money has a lot to do with my continued ability to get dates. I have never wanted for female attention. At first I declined all offers, partly out of respect for Lisa's memory and partly because it had been a long time since I had been on the market and I was, to be frank, ... I was nervous. After a while, I said what the hell? and sort of resumed my old ways, although perhaps not with the same degree of vigor.
"'Mostly, however, I just work. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to try to find you. I even went so far as to hire a private investigator a couple of times, but I always called a halt before they got started. I didn't want to intrude on your life, especially if you were still married.'
"I said, 'I don't want to intrude on your life, either, or to open old wounds for either of us. I wrote to you because I am pleased about your professional accomplishments and I am genuinely sorry for the loss of your wife. I hate to think of you in pain. I guess I didn't say the most important thing in the letter because you deserved to hear it from my lips. I have owed you an apology for a very long time. I'll say it now: I am very sorry.'
"He was quiet for a long time. His breathing was ragged for a moment and then it slowed. His voice was hoarse when he said, 'Better late than never, I guess. I know that all I could feel when I read (and re-read and re-re-read) your letter was hopefulness that maybe now, at long last, we might have what I guess they call closure. I am grateful to you for that.'
"He paused and then continued, rather faster, 'But, now that we have got all t
hat shit that out of the way, I've got other things on my mind.'
"'Such as?'
"'Such as what are you doing this weekend? And, why don't you come for a visit? We can catch up. No pressure. I'm not suggesting we try to pick up where we left off. There has been too much water under both of those bridges. I just would like to catch up with an old friend. I want to see pictures of Christa and her family; I'm sure there is one. I want to show you pictures of my kids and my amazing grandson. What do you say? I will arrange for a ticket from - where did you say you live?'
"'Aiken, South Carolina.'
"'Where is that?'
"'Kind of in the middle of nowhere between Atlanta and Columbia.'
"'I guess that will involve a ticket from Atlanta to LA. I'll put you up at a hotel, or you can stay in my guest house, whichever makes you more comfortable. How about it?'
"I could hear through the phone that his mood had lightened. He sounded like the young man I met so long ago. Lord, I wanted to say yes. I knew she had no real reason to refuse, other than pride and decorum, neither of which seemed as important as the opportunity to see him again. I laughed and said, 'Dammit, Luke, you are the only person on earth who can get me to do crazy, spontaneous things. What the heck? Sure; I'll do it. When do