“He actually said this? Those were his words?”
“Not in so many words, but he still made it clear enough. When the Philharmonic didn’t renew my contract, I told him that I planned to move back to California once the season was over and that it was time for us to settle down together. His response? ‘Oh no; I’m not ready; let’s wait a few more years.’ After four years, if he’s not ready, he never will be.” I paused to wipe my eyes.
Dad came over and hugged me, then led me by the hand to the sofa where we sat down. Mother sat on his other side. “I want to tell you something. When you mother and I first talked about getting married, I got cold feet, too. I was a young actor then, trying to build a career, just like John is now. I let myself worry and second guess myself about whether I could provide for your mother and a family; whether I could be the husband she deserved.” He leaned over and squeezed Mother’s hand. “But the next time I saw her, I knew I didn’t want to be without her, that everything would work out right because we belonged together. If you come back with us and go to John, I’ll bet he will forget every doubt he has the minute he sees you. The fact that he’s worried shows he cares. A man like Tony on the other hand, who wants to rush things … well, I say he has questionable motives.”
“Dad, I think you’re wrong about Tony. He’s gone to a lot of trouble to set up this tour. Right now, he’s meeting with someone to try to arrange a date for me in Florence.” Even as I said this, I thought Dad may well be right, but I wasn’t about to let on.
“Of course, because there’s something in it for him. That is what we’re trying to get across to you.”
Wanting to change focus, I said, “Mother, remember last summer when you yourself advised me to end John’s and my relationship if it didn’t have a future?”
“Yes, I remember saying that I believe that John loves you and the two of you need to marry and settle down. I meant to end the arrangement you had, not the relationship.” I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off. “Even if John is breaking it off, you can do better than a fortune hunter like Tony. Please, please promise us you’ll think about what we’ve said; said out of love and concern for you.”
Thinking about John again was so painful; I could no longer hold back my tears. “All right, honey, we’ve said enough for now,” Dad said finally. “Tonight we’re going to enjoy the movie and celebrate your success.”
I sat between Tony and my parents at the premiere, hoping to gauge their thoughts after this afternoon’s discussion. They gave no sign though, that anything was amiss. Afterward, my father said to me, “You did a beautiful job, Honey. The music was perfect – it gave just the right amount of suspense. What did you think, Jeanne?”
“The music was beautiful, but I could have done with less blood and gore. I may not sleep well tonight.” She shuddered. To me she said with a little laugh, “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to spoil your big night.”
I think we’re going to head back to the hotel,” Dad said. “I have a feeling this after party is geared more toward the younger set. We’d just stick out like a sore thumb. Danny’s going, I take it.”
“Yes,” I told him. “He’s even invited his new friends to it. We’ll be OK.”
Just then, Tony walked up to us and said, “Shall we get to the party, then?”
“You, Hannah and Danny go on. I think we’ll take a pass,” said Dad as he and Mother quickly turned to leave.
The party was pretty typical as after parties go; lots of loud music, dancing and drinking. I was happy to finally meet some of the actors since I had never met them while I was working on the score. Tony did quite a bit of schmoozing; pretty much as I expected he’d do. Danny had the most fun, though. I made sure to take some photos of him and his friends and I had someone take a couple of me with them too, to remember the occasion. That night would become a fond memory for Danny and me through the years.
The next evening, I went to my parents’ hotel to join them and Danny for dinner – alone, since Tony had to meet with someone regarding arrangements for the tour. When I arrived, my parents were packing their suitcases. “What’s going on?” I asked them. “You’re not staying for the wedding?”
“No. You know how we feel about this marriage. We’re not going to support it in any way. We are not going to stand by and smile as you throw your life away,” Mother said as she snapped her suitcase shut. “Your father changed our tickets. We’re leaving in the morning. Danny will stay. You two have always been close, so I suppose he feels a sense of loyalty towards you.”
“I’m glad someone in this family does,” I shot back.
We’ve been loyal to you,” Dad said. “But our loyalty doesn’t extend to giving our blessing to something which we know in our hearts to be wrong.”
“We can’t believe that you really love Tony; that you can’t see through him,” Mother said with a note of exasperation in her tone. “What we think is that you’re angry with John and hurt because you feel he’s brushing you off. You think you need to prove something to him and marrying Tony is the way to do it. This sinful pride of yours will bring you nothing but heartache and regret, young lady; mark my words. Knowing this breaks our hearts. That is why we’re leaving. There’s no point in staying.”
Without another word, I turned around and left. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I knew they were probably right, at least about Tony. I would rather have taken a bullet though, than admit that. Now that I had burned my bridges, so to speak, I felt more than ever that I needed to build a relationship with Tony, make it work and make the tour a success.
After our parents left to return to Los Angeles, Danny moved into my apartment with me until the wedding. I picked up some Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine for us while he settled in. As it was a warm day, we sat outside on the fire escape to eat. We both knew what was on the other’s mind, but we had been avoiding bringing up the subject. I decided to break the ice. “Well, you might as well weigh in, too. Mother and Dad weren’t shy about it.”
Danny gave a little laugh. “Where do I start? He’s flashy, loud and ill-mannered. I don’t see that you two have any interests or anything else in common, and he’s what, six years older than you?”
“Geez, Danny, I thought at least you would find something to like about him,” I said, genuinely surprised.
“Look, although we both know that Mother would rather see you with John because he’s Catholic and you could marry in the Church and Dad likes him because he’s a fellow actor, I have no agenda. I just don’t want to see you taken advantage of or hurt. There’s something about Tony that doesn’t sit well with me. He seems so shallow, phony even.”
“I know he’s flashy, a bit of a show off, but that doesn’t make him phony or mean he doesn’t love me. Anyway, I rather like his sunny attitude. It cheers me up.”
Danny gave me a skeptical look as he picked up the remains of our dinner and took them into the kitchen. “Are you trying to convince me of that, Hanni, or yourself?”
On May 30th, Danny and Debbie Halpern went with Tony and me down to the Resorts in Atlantic City for our wedding. In keeping with the 1920s theme of the place, we dressed in clothes of the period. I wore a dropped waist dress, a cloche hat and several long strands of pearls, all white of course. Tony was in a dark blue pinstripe suit and a fedora which he wore low over his face. There, for better or worse, I, Hannah Marie Newman, married Anthony Maynes Townsend.
11
Present Day (May 17th):
“I’ve heard back from some of the agencies we sent query letters to,” said Sophie as she entered Hannah’s apartment, lugging a large zippered case in addition to her usual backpack. Two of them said – and I quote – ‘While we appreciate your interest in us, we have decided your project is not what we are looking for at this time.’ However …” She paused for a second. “One has expressed interest, a Graham Tobin from Chapman & Cory Agency. He wants a larger sample to look over before he d
ecides whether to take us on as clients. That’s why I’ve printed out all I’ve transcribed so far. I thought we could go over it once more to make sure it’s perfect, I could make any changes over the weekend and submit it first thing next week.”
“We can make copies of a few of the photographs we were planning to use too, and add those if you think it’s a good idea,” suggested Hannah.
“It couldn’t hurt. Pictures and illustrations serve to provide a little more color and interest than plain text can. When I submitted my articles, I sent a picture or two along. I think it helped convey my ideas better.”
“Let’s send copies of these,” said Hannah, handing Sophie several photos; the 1972 shot of her and John on the bench in Central Park, one of the two of them at their Performing Arts graduation and one of them at the Grand Canyon. “They go with the parts of the story that we’ve finished.”
“Do you like baseball, Hannah?” asked Sophie as she zipped the edited manuscript and copies of the photos back into the case.
“Baseball? What makes you ask that?” Hannah was somewhat perplexed by this radical change in topic.
“Well, Frankie and I are Yankees fans. We try to catch at least one or two home games every season. He won a couple of tickets for Saturday’s game. He can’t go though, because he’s on call at work that day. So, how would you like to go with me?”
“I don’t know, Sophie. I’m not really into sports. I played softball when I was a girl, but that’s about it.”
It’ll be fun, I promise. Don’t worry. You can ask me anything about the game you don’t understand. We can have hot dogs and beer. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a foul ball.”
Hannah was skeptical about the chances of that ever happening. Also, as shy and reclusive as she was, she never liked crowds. On the other hand, she thought it might be good for her to get out of her comfort zone, so she agreed to go with Sophie.
On Saturday, Sophie arrived at Hannah’s well ahead of time as the crowds were already in evidence. “You look all ready for a good time,” she said. “I like the hat.”
Hannah had bought a Yankees cap to wear, partially to shield her face from the sun, partially to shield her identity. With sunglasses, it would be enough, Hannah thought, to ensure she wasn’t recognized. She knew the chances were slim, but she didn’t want to take even a small chance. She wasn’t up for any kind of scene.
They hurried to the subway and fought their way on. When they got off at the 161st Street station, the crowd practically carried them to the stadium. Their seats were far up near the top of the stadium, behind third base. “Awesome! Right behind A-Rod,” beamed Sophie.
“I can’t imagine he’ll see or hear you from this distance,” countered Hannah smiling and shaking her head as she settled into her seat.
“Now, is there anything you wanted to ask me about the game, the players, anything?”
“No, actually, I do know some about baseball. My ex-husband, Guillermo, is Cuban and was and I expect still is, a big baseball fan. He followed several teams; including the Yankees, the Phillies, the Cubs and the Colorado Rockies. He was especially a fan of Sammy Sosa before Sosa retired. I watched many of their games with him. When we lived in Utah, every year for the World Series, we would invite friends over for a barbeque and to watch the games. Those were some of the few bright spots we had in our marriage.”
“How about your son? Does he like baseball?” asked Sophie.
“Not really. Guillermo and I took him to a game or two when he came down to Utah to visit, but Matty, I guess because of his father, is a soccer fan. Whenever they get together, they always catch at least one or two matches on TV. Matty also likes basketball and follows the Seattle Sonics, the Knicks and the Utah Jazz.”
“I take it John wasn’t a big sports fan,” ventured Sophie.
“No. I know his Dad liked the Redskins and I remember he and John watched them play over the Thanksgiving weekend I spent with them. The Christmas his parents visited us in California, they caught a Rams game, I think. Other than that, I don’t think professional sports were big in their family. They weren’t in mine, either. My Dad probably didn’t have the time to follow any and Danny never was interested in any sport except tennis for a while. When I played softball it was usually only Mother who came to watch. I’ve sometimes wondered if she had wanted to play herself when she was young, but never got the chance. She never said anything about it, though.”
Just then the announcement came that the game was about to start. As soon as the national anthem ended, Sophie whistled to the man selling hot dogs and beverages and ordered two hot dogs and two beers. “It doesn’t get any better than this; hot dogs, beer and the Yankees on a beautiful spring day,” she said as she took a bite out of her hot dog.
The Yankees were playing their old rivals, the Red Sox, that day, so the spectators were exuberant and noisy. Sophie excitedly told Hannah about every player as he came up to bat. When the Yankees hit a homer in the third inning, the crowd sounded to Hannah like it was about to explode and it made her nervous. To her relief, they soon settled down again and the Yankees pulled through a 4-3 victory.
When they got back to Hannah’s apartment, Sophie said, “I’d better be getting home. I just know that my Mom has a list of things I need to help her with around the house before we all go to Wildwood for Memorial Day.”
“I hope you and your family have a wonderful time. We’ll pick up work again once you get back.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell you all about it then.” Hannah had no doubt she would, too. “Are you going to do anything?”
“No. I actually thought about flying to California to visit John’s … grave, but I decided I’m not quite ready for that yet.”
“So you know where it is?”
“Yes. When his mother got sick, he moved them out there. Alicia had taken care of them for a while, but she and her husband started having difficulties of their own, financial and otherwise, so John had to take over. After they died, John took me to visit their graves. He told me then that he had bought a plot for himself nearby, so he would be close to them. When the time is right, I’ll go and visit them and my own family, too.” Hannah stopped because she felt her throat tighten and tears starting to well up in her eyes and sting them.
Quickly changing the subject, Hannah said, “Thank you for inviting me to the game and letting me have Frankie’s ticket. I appreciate that you thought of me.”
“I’m glad you had fun.” Sophie took Hannah’s hand and squeezed it. “See you on the 2nd.”
***
“It looks like you enjoyed the beach,” Hannah said as she admired Sophie’s suntanned face and arms.
“Yeah, Frankie and I went with our cousins to a barbeque on Sunday. It lasted all day.”
“You’re lucky to have ancestors from the sun-kissed Mediterranean. I, on the other hand, can’t go to the beach without an umbrella and plenty of SPF50 sunblock.”
The two women laughed as they carried a pitcher of iced tea and glasses to the table. “You’ve said that you had doubts about Tony even before you married him. Why did you marry him, then?” Sophie asked.
12
July 1978:
I felt that marrying Tony, I was moving on with my life and leaving everything in the past behind. That wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought, as I would soon learn.
Tony and I put our belongings in storage with the assumption that we’d be gone for about a year. We left the address and phone number of Tony’s parents in London with our landlords, and with Debbie and Danny. On July 7th, we boarded a flight to Heathrow.
London is a huge city, even compared to New York. Whereas New York has five boroughs, London has over twenty. These were originally separate villages and towns which the city absorbed as it expanded over the centuries. Tony’s family lived in the borough of Bexley. His father, William, a taciturn man who spoke little, and his two brothers, Richard and George, owned a small carpentry outfit which subcontracted wit
h larger contractors on various building projects. They also built cabinetry and some furniture on the side, mostly on a free-lance basis. Tony learned this trade too, when he was young, but it didn’t interest him. Tony’s mother, Vivian, was a homemaker primarily, but was by then working part-time as a grocery store clerk.
We settled into Tony’s old bedroom on the top floor of the house. It was small and could barely contain Tony, me and all our belongings, but it had a certain charm. One thing that I noticed immediately was how Vivian doted on Tony, the youngest of her three sons. She treated him almost like a child, even though he turned thirty-two on July 26th. Tony, for his part, though he was never rude or unkind to his mother, seemed to expect this as his due. This struck me as odd. I had never seen this dynamic in my own, John’s or any other family I’d known.
For the first month or so we were in London, Tony was kind and attentive to me. I wanted to see all the sights and he obliged. He took me to see the London Bridge, St. Paul’s and the Tower of London. The Tower was what I was most excited to see. As we walked through it, I remembered how I’d long been fascinated by the mystery of the two Princes supposedly murdered there by their uncle, Richard III. I also thought about Anne Boleyn and others imprisoned there, awaiting execution. What could they have been thinking day after day, I wondered, with little to do except wait to die?
Eventually Tony, when he wasn’t busy finalizing the arrangements for the tour, began helping his father and brothers with their work and afterwards going to the pubs. On weekends, he was off with his friends to the soccer matches, especially when his favorite team, the Vickers, was playing. When I once or twice wanted to go, he told me, “Sorry, Love. Lads only.” It got to the point that I rarely saw him except late in the evenings when he finally came home.
When I wasn’t helping Vivian around the house, I would take Tony’s old bicycle and ride to a church hall about a mile away. I used the piano there to practice the pieces I was going to perform on the tour. The vicar there graciously allowed me to do this in exchange for several performances at services. I also noticed a number of historic churches in the area and visited them when I had time. The most interesting one, dating to the 11th century, was dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Its spire looked like two spires, one on top of other, almost as if the bottom one was wearing the top one as a cap. It awed me to think that it was almost a thousand years old. I wondered what sort of music would have been played there that long ago. I began investigating the subject as best I could at the local library. My later research and work in Medieval and Renaissance music took root right there, I guess. I eventually composed several pieces with these churches in mind as the setting in which they would be played.
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