by Doug Sanford
The next morning we had breakfast with Robin, Doug, and Johnny at the Willow, and at Johnny’s request, we all went to the zoo. It was practically deserted—most people were probably shopping for Friday-after-Thanksgiving bargains. Johnny, now six, had been to the zoo so many times with his parents, that he ended up being our guide, telling us what we had to see and what was, as he put it, borrr-ring. Elephants and monkeys were definitely high on his list of things to see; the hummingbird exhibit was the most borrr-ring.
For Bart and me, it was a bit of nostalgia, reminding us of the morning after we’d made love the first time, but though we smiled at each other, neither of us mentioned it. The six of us walked through the zoo in two groups of three: Robin and Doug with Johnny in the middle, all holding hands followed by the three of us, with Bart in the middle, also all holding hands—the first time Bart and I ever did that in public. I guess we felt both adventurous and safe because we no longer knew anyone in Tucson. It was a warm day, and we were all, except for Johnny, quiet, relaxed, and contented.
Later, we had an early dinner of leftover turkey and ham sandwiches, cold dressing, and pie with lots of whipped cream. For old times’ sake, we played a game of Scrabble—Doug and Robin played as a team—and Leslie won. We got back to the hotel fairly early.
We drove back to LA on Saturday in order to avoid the Sunday end-of-holiday rush, stopping at Bamboo once we got into town to get some carry-out, and just vegged out that night—if one can call it “vegging” when eating shrimp, chicken, and pork in various combinations.
When Jeanine returned Sunday evening, Leslie asked her to have coffee in the kitchen. It was the usual setting for their weekly household meetings, but Jeanine was surprised to find Bart and me there as well.
“Is this our regular meeting, Miss Leslie?” Jeanine asked, looking at us.
“No, Jeanine, we have some news for you, and I thought the guys should be here as well.”
In their private discussions, Leslie and Jeanine referred to us as the guys although when Jeanine talked to us directly, she still called us Mr. Bart and Mr. Marc.
“News?”
“Jeanine, I’m pregnant.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m very happy for you.”
“You know? Who told you? When? You weren’t even here when the doctor’s office called.”
“No one, but you’ve had that look, Ms. Leslie. I’ve seen it enough times—my friends, my daughters, their friends.”
“I’ve heard of that, but I always thought it was an urban legend or a bit of folklore. You actually could see it in me? What was it?”
“The way you looked, your expressions, your actions, the way you held yourself. It’s not one thing.”
“You have been more upbeat in the last few weeks,” said Bart. “I noticed it Halloween night when you were so outgoing with the kids who stopped by for trick or treat, but I didn’t think that much about it. I just thought you were in a good mood.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help, Ms. Leslie,” said Jeanine. “It will be wonderful to have a baby in the house.”
“One more thing, Jeanine. We were thinking about having an open house on New Year’s Day. I know that would be a holiday for you, but would you be willing to exchange it for another day so you could help with it?”
“That would be fine, Ms. Leslie. Both of my daughters and their families are going to Las Vegas that weekend. They asked me to go, but I don’t think they really wanted me there. They were just being polite, so I was planning to be here anyway.”
“How many people are you thinking about?” asked Jeanine, pulling her notebook out of her apron pocket.
However sexist our behavior might have been, at that moment, Bart and I excused ourselves and left the logistics and the menu-planning to the women.
Chapter 38
Christmas arrived and with it, Jack and Ada. This was another first for the three of us, and their visit, while just as comfortable as it had been when it was only Bart and me, did have a couple of new features.
Of course, the pregnancy brought Leslie and Ada together. That was to be expected. But something similar happened between Bart and his dad. They had always been close, but now that Bart was married and about to become a father himself, they had something in common they hadn’t had previously, and they seemed much more, I’m not sure how to describe it, buddy-buddy than before.
I was kind of amused at how Bart’s impending fatherhood gave Jack and Ada an added pride in him. At the same time, they also made sure that I knew that they loved me as much as they had. So it didn’t bother me and was interesting to watch. I decided it wouldn’t be a violation of rule number two to keep my observations to myself.
Our celebration of the holidays hadn’t changed much either. There was just one more person in the group—well, three actually—since Phil and Marian came by to eat with us and to leave and receive presents. The in-laws had met several times in the week before the wedding, and when we returned from Ashland, we were surprised to learn that the four of them had had dinner together one evening while we were gone. Everything we heard from Jack and Ada and all that Leslie was able to wheedle out of her parents indicated that it was considered a success by both couples, and they got along just fine. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, they seemed to be comfortable with one another. They’d probably never be best friends, but then most in-laws never are. The three of us wondered if their shared bewilderment in our living arrangement possibly provided a bond.
“I wish I’d been a fly on the wall at that dinner,” remarked Leslie.
New Year’s Eve was, as always, dinner, a movie, and eggnog. I got to choose and brought home Ang Lee’s recent film of Sense and Sensibility—as much for Leslie as for me. She was more impressed than she thought she’d be considering she wasn’t a big fan of most film adaptations of Austen’s works.
The next day’s open house went off without a hitch, of course, because Jeanine was in charge. Once she and Leslie planned the basics, she took over, and she’d handled enough entertaining for Steve and Don that this was probably a piece of cake for her. None of us ever counted, but a lot of people showed up. It was called for 1:00 to 5:00 and the house was full pretty much all day.
Bart had checked with Jay in advance to be sure that the open house wouldn’t violate Bart’s promise of keeping our relationship quiet, but he was fine with it and even showed up himself that afternoon. He did suggest that the invitations read simply Leslie and Bart invite you blah, blah, blah with no mention of me, and while that annoyed Bart a lot, Leslie and I finally convinced him that it would be best to go along with what Jay wanted.
“I couldn’t care less, kid, what the invitation says to your people. I’ll send out separate ones for the few people from the office and the few clients I’d like to have here.” And that’s what I did.
As Leslie had requested, we got a lot of practice introducing ourselves to all sorts of people, but because Jay had imposed discretion on us, none of it was as much fun as we’d had at Robin and Doug’s.
About midway through the afternoon, I found myself alone with Bart and AJ.
Looking around, Bart said, “You know, I’m really enjoying this party—more than I thought I would.”
“That’s because you don’t have to do any of the work,” I replied with a smile. “Jeanine’s taken care of the planning and cooking. The waiters, waitresses, and bartenders she hired are doing all the serving, and she’s got a clean-up crew coming at five. You can just stroll around like the lord of the manor.”
“Good feeling just the same. And where’s the lady of the manor? I haven’t seen Les for a while.”
“She’s doing another of your jobs—entertaining the guests and being hospitable.”
“I’ve been hospitable. Honest. I’m just taking a break for a minute. I have to say, though, that I’m surprised how many people from the show turned up.”
“You kidding? I’m not,” replied AJ. “They’re all curious
as hell.”
“About what?”
“You, of course.”
“Me?”
“I guess you really don’t know how much of a puzzle you are to everybody at work.”
“Why?”
“They haven’t been able to figure you out, Bart. You’re friendly, and everybody likes you a lot, but you don’t hang out with the cast and crew much. You do your thing and you leave. You almost never go for drinks after the show, so you have no idea how much gossip there is and how much bullshit goes on. There’s been lots of talk about you, especially after your best man—” AJ turned to smile at me, “—got a ring at your wedding. Pretty much everyone thought you guys were having a three-way.
“So there was no way they weren’t going to show up today to try to find out whatever they could. And I swear to you, after Buddy told me the real story about how things were with you, I never said a word—though I could have made a bundle on all the bets that were going around.”
“Funny,” said Bart. “Wonder how they’d react if we could be honest about it and tell them what our situation really is?” He smiled. “Well, I guess I’d better move on and start being hospitable again.”
And he did, but it turned out that it wouldn’t be too much longer before he’d get an answer to his question.
Chapter 39
Bart, as I’m sure I’ve made clear by now, says that I’m totally anal about dates. He’s right. I can’t help it. I’m a romantic, and I like keeping track of significant moments.
As it turned out, our New Year’s Day open house was the first of a lot of significant moments in 1996.
In April, Doug, after several interviews which must have been as nerve-wracking for him as auditions were for Bart, got notice that he’d been hired as an assistant professor at UCLA, his first choice. They wanted him for a new program in urban education, and his high school teaching background made him especially qualified—along with his good grades and excellent recommendations, one of them, of course, from Jack.
He and Robin and Johnny came out late that month to look for a house the same way that we had five years before. Robin had done her research well, and they found something pretty quickly in Sherman Oaks, not too far from us. Since I was able help them through the process, they saved a bundle in commissions. It was definitely a smaller family house than ours, but it would work well for them.
Next up were the Emmy awards in mid-May. Having turned twenty-five the previous year, Bart was no longer eligible for Outstanding Younger Actor, and he’d refused to submit his name for any other category. Still, he had to be there to present the award to that year’s winner, but we all decided it would be best for Bart and Leslie to go by themselves. Leslie was obviously pregnant by that time, and, according to Norm, Jay was very happy about what that would do for Bart’s image after what he considered the debacle of the preceding year’s Emmys with Bart and me in ties matching Leslie’s dress.
Then, at dinner one evening not long after the Emmys, Bart made a surprising announcement: “You’ll never believe this one, but I got called into a meeting with Jay and the writers today. They’re changing my character and wanted to know if I’d be on board with it.”
“Would you even have a choice if they did?” asked Leslie, practical as always.
“Probably not if I wanted to keep my job, but this one is pretty major. They want Shaun Zachary to come out as gay.”
“No fucking shit,” I said. “How weird is that.”
“Good weird or bad weird?” asked Bart and Leslie at the same time, and we all broke out laughing.
“Seriously? Why?” I asked.
“They were pretty upfront about it. Purely commercial. Gay characters are becoming a big thing in movies and on TV. Tom Hanks got that Oscar for Philadelphia, and gays have been turning up on all kinds of TV shows. Jay doesn’t want to lose out and wants to get in before any of the other soaps has one on a regular basis. They decided on using Shaun as the best way to do it without having to introduce a new major character. They also felt they could build on the popularity Shaun already had and maybe make the idea of a gay character more acceptable to daytime audiences.”
“So this will be a first for a soap?” asked Leslie.
“Not the first gay character, but it will be the first continuing major character who’s gay. I didn’t know this, but the writers who did the research said that As the World Turns had the first gay male character on a soap in 1988—eight years ago if you can believe that—but he only lasted a year. Then—and I had heard about this—All My Children had a storyline with a gay teacher and a gay student just last year, but they weren’t regulars and have kind of disappeared.”
“The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this isn’t what they had in mind for Shaun all along,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“They’ve never given him a love interest. No romance at all. And that business of keeping him half naked all the time—you can’t tell me that wasn’t aimed at a gay male audience as much as at a young female one. Look what Shaun has done for their ratings.”
“What did you tell them?” asked Leslie.
“That I didn’t have a problem with it. Of course, since Jay already knows about our situation, I’m sure he felt he was on pretty solid ground asking. It even occurred to me that finding out about us may have given him the idea.”
“You think he told the writers?” I asked.
“No. He’d said he wouldn’t mention it to anyone, and I don’t think he’d go back on his word—at least not without letting me know first. He’s tough, but he’s fair from what Norm says. And he’s protective of the show, so I don’t think he’d let that out because he’s afraid of bad publicity that would hurt the ratings.
“But I did take advantage of the meeting to make a few suggestions.”
“What kind?”
“I said I’d like them to handle it seriously and not make Shaun into a caricature.”
“I can’t imagine that they’d want him mincing about and turning into a flamer,” said Leslie. “That wouldn’t work with Shaun’s past on the show.” Though Leslie and I never watched, Bart did keep us up to date on the various plot lines.
“No, they know that they can’t change his basic personality. But I didn’t want them to introduce a lot of stereotypical effeminate friends or turn the whole thing into just an AIDS-related tragedy. That’s been overdone. I told them the thing I thought would make the character stand out and really increase ratings would be that he be portrayed as fairly normal, showing that gay people are just like anyone else—Marc excepted, of course. Ow!”
“Brilliant and brave,” I said after punching his arm. “But do you think they’d go for something like that?”
“I pitched the idea that even though the gay character was being added for publicity and audience share, it could also be responsible for encouraging dialogue in the media about gays. They admitted it was something they hadn’t considered and would have to revise some of their ideas.”
“I never knew that so much forethought and creativity went into soap opera plots,” said Leslie. “They’re usually so predictable.”
“I’m not sure it always has, but since this is something kind of groundbreaking, they seemed willing to consider what I had to say. The meeting ended because Jay had to leave for another appointment, but he specifically said that he liked my approach and asked the writers to work with me on future ideas, and that he’d be looking for some scripts in the next couple of weeks.”
“So you’ll have input on the writing? That’s pretty exciting,” I said.
“Yeah, it is. The writers and I talked for a bit after Jay left, and at least I got to nix their original idea of a sensational coming out at the hospital. I think they were imagining something like that scene in Tootsie when Dustin Hoffman reveals himself as a man. I said that it was too unrealistic. No closeted guy—which Shaun definitely is—would do something that flamboyant.”
“I can just see you at the top of a long staircase, naked except for a Speedo and a stethoscope,” I said, and we all laughed. “You sure these guys know what they’re doing?”
“They’re not all guys, and I’m pretty sure a couple of them are gay. They’re usually pretty good. They agreed to make it a longer, drawn-out process which they liked because that would give them material for more episodes or partial episodes. I think the first stage is going to involve Shaun’s coming out to his brother and sister-in-law. They’re still working on that.”
“And guess what? Dorie Johnson, the head publicist for the show, was at the meeting as well, and they’ve already started working on a two-pronged campaign. One will deal with how few gays there’ve been in soaps and why they decided to add a major continuing gay character—not being honest about the profit motive, of course.
“The other will involve interviews with me about what it’s like for a straight actor to play gay. I guess I can’t tell them about what it’s like for a straight actor to play with a gay, can I?”
“Certainly you can,” said Leslie drily. “And you can bring in pictures of you and Marc for show-and-tell.”
“Man, they don’t miss any angle, do they?” I said.
“Nope, and what’s more, they’re definitely planning for Shaun to have a boyfriend and are salivating over making the first kiss a big deal. As far as they’ve been able to discover, there hasn’t been a real gay kiss on a US soap yet. The writers did say that there was a gay kiss in a UK soap in 1987. It was just a kiss on the forehead, but it still got a lot of pretty vile reactions in the right-wing press over there.”
“They really are researching this, huh?”
“Makes sense,” Bart said. “They need to know what they’re getting into. It is kind of a risky move.”
“Risky for your career, too, Bart,” said Leslie. “Are you ready for that? What if it doesn’t work out and they get pushback from the audience?” asked Leslie.
“Jay promised me they’d stick with it at least through the end of my contract which has more than a year to run. I thought that was decent of him.