I called Dr. Jacob to see how well she knew him, and I was relieved when she told me she’s known him for a few years and that he’s a very decent, nice, hardworking guy. The fact remains that I don’t know what he’s expecting. A romance? Or just a nice trip to Los Angeles, where he’s never been? I’ve decided he can stay here, in the guest room, I can show him around L.A., and we can be friends. I’ll make that very clear, so that hopefully there will be no problem of him having other expectations.
I also don’t want to build up any expectations on my part of what it might be. I don’t want to jump into anything too quickly and then regret it. If I behave responsibly, I won’t have to face that kind of uncomfortable situation, right? Marianne Williamson said that I should only ask God that this be a blessing. That’s a spiritual way to look at it, and it relieves me of trying to figure it out and be anxious about the outcome. It won’t be uncomfortable if I’m just open and can be kind, be sharing, and enjoy it—even if the end result is only that I’m learning to speak Italian really well.
I spoke to Farrah about it several times; each time I was more panicked. She thought it was great that he was coming. But then she’s not an anxiety-filled worrywart like me. She has a much simpler way of looking at things. She sees things more in the moment, not as a catastrophe-in-the-making.
“Oh, what could be bad?” she said. “He’s gorgeous, he’s sweet, and most importantly, he’s a great cook! Have him cook for you all the time. For all of us!”
She’s so practical about these things. Maybe she’s right and I should just relax and focus on the present.
November 18, 2007
Mimmo arrived. I went to the wrong terminal at the airport and ended up being an hour late picking him up. He was left standing in the international terminal alone, with no idea of how to reach me or where to go. I felt terrible. What a way to start his trip. But I apologized profusely, as much as I could in Italian, and he wasn’t upset at all.
When I first saw him, he wasn’t quite as gorgeous as he was that night in the restaurant. Hmm, it did have great lighting…He was a little shorter, maybe, than I remembered. I checked out the jeans and the shoes. They were at least not embarrassing, and God knows, we can certainly get him a great pair of jeans in L.A. I’ve been taking a few Italian lessons, so by now I can speak enough to have a conversation, which I had rehearsed with my teacher: “How was your flight?” “Did you sleep on the plane?” “Are you hungry?”
We arrived at my house. What immediately impressed me was how much my dogs took to him and vice versa. Lolita, my big French Mastiff and the love of my life (other than my kids), was all over him, and Bliss, my long-haired Chihuahua who I inherited from Kim when she moved to London, and who doesn’t usually like men at all, was right up in his lap. He nicknamed her “Principessa.” I showed him to his room and asked if he was hungry, and he said he’d like to eat something, so I took him to Il Sole, a lovely little Italian restaurant on Sunset. We chatted, finished a very good dinner, although not as good as his cooking, and went back to my house. We both retired for the night, I to my room and he to the guest room. I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so uncomfortable after all.
My only big worry now is that I’ve realized that Thanksgiving falls right in the middle of his visit. How do I explain this strange Italian man to my kids when they come for our traditional Thanksgiving dinner? I begged Farrah to come with Ryan and Redmond so I don’t have to face this on my own.
November 19, 2007
We were hit with unexpected news today. I went with Farrah and Ryan for her scan at Dr. Lawrence Piro’s office. He has become her oncologist here in Los Angeles and he works closely with Dr. Jacob. The results of the scan were not great. There appeared to be several new tumors in the liver. Dr. Jacob and Dr. Vogl were consulted. They feel Farrah needs to come back to Germany immediately for another liver perfusion. “Immediately” means leaving here this coming Thursday, which is Thanksgiving Day, arriving in Frankfurt on Friday, and going straight to Dr. Vogl for the procedure. This was all quite a shock. I had to explain to Mimmo that I was leaving in three days to go back to Germany. He was a little in shock, too, needless to say. He called Jimmy Van Patten, whom he had become friends with when the Van Pattens were at the clinic in September, and Jimmy said Mimmo could stay in his parents’ guesthouse when I leave. I felt bad about leaving so soon, but we had no choice.
Farrah felt much worse than I did. She kept saying, “But Mimmo just got here. I don’t want you to have to leave. I can see if I can get someone else to go.”
“It’s not an option,” I replied firmly. “I’m going. I barely know him, for God’s sakes!” Farrah acquiesced. “Okay, good. Besides, you have to film…” She can see right through me. She knows I would never let her go back to Germany without me, but also that I am relieved that I don’t have to deal with this sexy Italian guy staying in my home.
November 22, 2007 (Thanksgiving Day)
Farrah and I are sitting in first class on Lufthansa, wolfing down caviar and having a cocktail while I fill her in on the latest Mimmo details. It feels almost like we’re going away on a pleasure trip, two girlfriends off to Europe on holiday! But the reality is that we’re going back to Germany in hopes of saving her life. I don’t know how she faces it with such an astonishing attitude. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t feel sorry for herself or say, “Why did this happen to me?” She just gets on with it and asks them to bring more caviar. I think we’re both kind of in denial about what the outcome could be. We just don’t accept anything but that she’ll be cured.
The last three days have been a blur. I hurriedly started making plans—plane reservations, ground transportation, the hotel in Frankfurt, and the time to see Dr. Vogl. I begged my part-time housekeeper to come and stay with the dogs while I was gone. But the hardest thing of all was telling my kids I wouldn’t be cooking Thanksgiving dinner. Each of them asked me, “But, Mom, where will we eat Thanksgiving dinner? You always cook.” I felt horribly guilty, but I had to go with Farrah, and I promised them I’d make up for it on Christmas. I really wanted them to understand that it wasn’t about choosing my friend over them. It was about being there for someone who needed me more at this moment; it was a matter of life and death.
Before we left, I felt obligated to show Mimmo around L.A., at least a little, especially since I was ditching him. He really wanted to see the beach, so I drove him out to Malibu. We had a nice lunch at a lovely outdoor restaurant, took a walk on the pier, where he took pictures, and then we drove back. That night we went to my friend Nicollette Sheridan’s birthday party, which her boyfriend, Michael Bolton, was throwing for her in a bowling alley in Hollywood. I wasn’t sure how Mimmo was going to fit into the mix, especially not speaking a word of English, but he was just fine. In fact, all the attractive single women who were there were flirting with him. I hadn’t been at all attracted to him until then, but after a Cosmopolitan, he started to look cuter. Still, when we got back to my house, I kissed him goodnight on the cheek and went to my bedroom.
Last night I had to pack to leave today, so he cooked a great Italian meal for us. After dinner, we sat by the fire, drank a Ramazzotti, and chatted. My Italian was improving, that’s for sure. Up until now, I’d been clearly sending him the signal that I wasn’t interested in anything other than being platonic friends, and he had been very respectful of that. I told him as best as I could in Italian that I needed to get to know him better, that I didn’t know anything about him or how many women he slept with, and that I was very cautious about getting physically involved with anyone, especially these days. God knows it’s been forever since I’ve been in any kind of relationship. He said he had been with one woman for five years, that they had broken up almost a year ago, and that he hadn’t really dated anyone since then. He said he was working all the time and didn’t have the time to date. That was a relief. At least he wasn’t some Italian playboy.
Then the mood gradually shifted. He kissed
me softly and I let him, but with little response on my part. He kissed me again. I liked that he wasn’t being pushy about it. And I liked the way he kissed me, so I let him kiss me more. I was definitely attracted to him. One thing led to another, and we ended up making love. It was very nice—a terrible word to describe lovemaking, I guess. But the earth didn’t move, it was just warm and…nice. When it was time to go to bed, I said goodnight and went into my room and he went into his. I wasn’t ready to sleep in the same bed with him; that would have been just too much too soon.
So now I’m on my way to Germany and he’s staying in Los Angeles another week. I like him. I enjoyed his company, and I feel kind of attracted to him. But I don’t know how I’ll feel when I see him again. Right now, there are more important things to deal with.
November 23, 2007
We arrived, dropped our bags off at the hotel, and went straight to Dr. Vogl’s for Farrah’s liver perfusion. It all went smoothly, and after a few hours in the recovery room, we returned to the hotel to spend the night. The driver who had picked us up at the airport told us there was a much better hotel than the “disco” hotel we had stayed at before. It was called the Villa Kennedy and it was very close to the hospital, so we decided to try it.
Impulsively we canceled our reservations at the disco hotel, which turned out to be a wise choice on our part. There was no comparison. We were so happy to be in a lovely room in a first-class hotel with great food. We got into our pajamas, ordered room service, ate, and settled down for the night.
November 27, 2007
The past few days have been a blur of jet lag and IVs. We haven’t even been outside the room. Farrah is feeling stronger and better.
November 29, 2007
Mimmo returned from Los Angeles today. Tonight he took Farrah and me to dinner at a charming restaurant for a typical Bavarian meal: duck, red cabbage, and potato dumplings. It was delicious. I translated his Italian into English for Farrah and vice versa. He looked more handsome than I’d remembered.
When we got back to the clinic, I was going to get out of the car with Farrah, but she looked at me and slyly said, “Why don’t you two go have a drink and catch up?” (She knew quite well what she was doing.)
Mimmo seconded the idea, so he and I went to a small bar nearby and had several Ramazzotti’s, my new favorite drink. He asked me if I wanted to come back to his house, which was a few blocks away. It’s such a small town that everything is a few blocks away. I still wasn’t sure how I really felt about him or if I was ready to resume where we had left off. Maybe it was better to just leave it at that and be friends. However, I think that Ramazzotti might have an aphrodisiacal effect on the brain, because I found myself back at his place. When we made love this time, for some reason, it was off the charts amazing! It was a fairly sleepless night since I don’t sleep well in a new environment, and besides he was curled up to me way too closely, with his arm around me.
He drove me back to the clinic around 9 A.M. and as I tried to sneak quietly into my room, Farrah heard me. Now I was in for it.
“Well, the slut of Tegernsee is back!” Farrah called out from her adjoining room. She was already up with Dr. Jacob, gleefully awaiting my return and wanting “all the details.” They both had quite a time at my expense. Farrah did greatly exaggerated imitations of me the rest of the trip—staggering into the room, disheveled and exhausted after my night of passion with the Italian chef. I think it gave her great pleasure that I was having this little romance here. She knows what I’m giving up to be with her in Germany, and she wants me to have a little happiness, a little fun, away from the clinic.
December 1, 2007
Last night I had dinner with Mimmo at his restaurant. Farrah didn’t feel up to coming, so he cooked some wonderful pasta and after we’d eaten we took it back to the clinic for her. She wanted to go to sleep early, so I went back to Mimmo’s house. Again, it was absolutely wonderful. We made love all night. I never imagined I’d have this kind of hot sex again at this stage of my life. He told me that the reason he can make love to me like this is because he’s in love with me. It sounds so romantic in Italian. “Sono innamarato di te.”
Tonight Farrah and I went with Dr. Jacob and her boyfriend, Manfred, to dinner at Mimmo’s. Mimmo went all out to make a fabulous dinner for us. Ravioli with asparagus and Pecorino cheese and fresh fish with small roasted potatoes and spinach. He brought us a marvelous dessert called Crema Catalano, similar to flan but better. Farrah and I both think it’s the best Italian food we’ve ever eaten. I went back to the clinic with Farrah afterward. I didn’t want to leave her alone again for the night although she was feeling quite well. I, however, was exhausted.
I was lying in bed thinking about the past few days. It feels kind of strange and almost disloyal to be having this romantic love affair while I’m here with my best friend who is fighting cancer. It’s probably just my overblown sense of guilt. Farrah doesn’t see it that way at all. She’s thrilled for me. She thinks I should go for it and that Mimmo is great for me. I like him a lot, but I’m pretty clear that it’s just for now. Maybe God brought him into my life to help me get through all this. I sometimes don’t take into account that it’s very emotional and stressful for me because I’m so focused on Farrah. With what she’s going through, I feel guilty thinking about myself.
December 2, 2007
This morning Mimmo picked Farrah and me up and took us for a walk on a path along an incredibly beautiful lake about fifteen minutes away from the clinic. The day was like a gift from God; the sun was sparkling on the water, the mountains rising majestically in the background. Farrah was looking great and feeling better than she has in a long time. We walked for almost an hour, and although she was full of energy, I was exhausted and had to sit down and rest. She didn’t let me hear the end of it, either! We had a wonderful time, laughing and joking. She felt so grateful for such a perfect day, and it made me happy to see her in such good spirits.
Farrah was tired from the day and wanted to talk to Ryan and go to bed early, so I went to dinner with Mimmo and some of his friends at a famous Bavarian beer garden. Many of the Germans were wearing their traditional Bavarian clothing: lederhosen for the men and dirndls for the women. It was like being in another era. I went back to Mimmo’s afterward and ended up sleeping there. I guess I could hardly say I slept. It’s a wonder I can even walk! He told me again that he’s in love with me. I know he’s hoping I’m going to tell him I’m in love with him, but the truth is that I can’t honestly say that. I’m crazy about him and I’m sure attracted to him sexually, but I don’t want to rush into anything. It’s unusual for me to be this attracted to a man and not want it to be something more than it is. I know I’m not going to spend the rest of my life with Mimmo.
December 4, 2007
We left for Frankfurt at 6:30 A.M. Well, actually 7:15 by the time Farrah got downstairs. Late again. It took us almost six hours to get there, with two big accidents stopping traffic for miles. Dr. Vogl performed another laser surgery, and again it was terribly painful for her because they didn’t put her under. I could never do this. Afterward I told Farrah that I would have said to Dr. Vogl, “You either knock me out or I’m getting off this operating table and getting the hell outta here!”
She laughed because she knew I meant it. I don’t know how she endures it with such resilience. Her will seems unbreakable; she just does what she has to do. They kept her overnight in the hospital again and I slept in the room with her.
December 5, 2007
Farrah is still in a lot of pain today. Much more so than the last time. Dr. Vogl came into the room this morning to examine her. He said it was one of the largest tumors he had ever removed and that it was a very dangerous surgery because of where it was located, next to a major vessel. We’d had no idea that it would be so difficult, and quite frankly he hadn’t, either, until he actually got into the surgery. They did some blood work, and her liver enzymes were dangerously high, so high that one
of the other doctors said she could die if the number continued to rise.
I was in a panic. I called Dr. Jacob and she said to get Farrah back to the clinic so she could treat her. There was much conferring, and the doctors were adamant that she should stay another night, but in typical Farrah fashion, she insisted we leave. It was against my better judgment, but when Farrah makes up her mind, there’s no stopping her. When the doctors left the room, she had me call the driver from the clinic, who was waiting downstairs, and tell him to come up. He helped her into a wheelchair while I grabbed all our belongings, and we fled like thieves in the night.
December 8, 2007
We were supposed to leave tomorrow, but Dr. Jacob wants us to delay it until at least Monday. Farrah is still in no shape to travel. I had dinner with her in the room, and when she went to sleep, I met Mimmo for a drink. We went back to his house and made love, but I went back to the clinic to sleep so I could be there if Farrah needed me. I always tell her to wake me if she needs anything in the night, but she never does. Sometimes she’ll tell me in the morning that she was up for hours in pain, and when I ask her why she didn’t wake me, she always says, “I didn’t want to bother you.”
I tell her that if it were me, I’d damned sure bother her!
December 9, 2007
More delays. After examining her, Dr. Jacob said we should put the flight off until Tuesday or Wednesday. I won’t know until tomorrow morning if that’s possible. Farrah started to feel a little better toward the end of the day, so she came to dinner with Dr. Jacob, Mimmo, and me. But before dinner was over, she was starting to have a lot of pain again. I went back to the clinic so that I could stay with Farrah. I figured that I’d be able to change the flight in the morning and I would see Mimmo tomorrow night.
December 10, 2007
Farrah woke up early this morning feeling better and wanted to go. By the time they said we could change the flight, she was ready and the car was downstairs. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her be ready to leave early! When she’s ready to go, she’s really ready to go. I didn’t think it was wise to travel against Dr. Jacob’s advice, but there wasn’t anything I could do to dissuade her at this point. I called Mimmo to say good-bye and he was really sad. I felt rather sad, too. I’d really thought we’d have one last night together.
My Journey with Farrah Page 6