Remember This

by Patricia Koerner

  However he came to that choice, I was glad he did, because it brought us together. Had he become a doctor for instance, I thought to myself, I would have fallen on my face on that sidewalk at Performing Arts and never known how love can transform you and change the whole course of your life.

  Looking back now on that time saddens me because though I didn’t know it then, it was the last time John and I were truly happy.

  23

  Present Day (July 15th):

  Hannah stood in front of her dresser quickly arranging her hair and smiled as she caught sight of the sonogram image taped to her dresser mirror. Matty had faxed it to her a few days after her last visit. Underneath the picture, Hannah had written ‘Juliana Maria Townsend,’ the name Matty and Paula had chosen for their expected daughter. Hannah was excited at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. Over the past several months, since she had first gotten the news, she reflected on the close loving relationship she had with her own grandmother and hoped to have the same with her granddaughter.

  As she smoothed the last hair into place, Hannah rushed out into the blazing summer day, hoping to hail a taxi in time to make the early lunch meeting she had downtown with Sophie and Graham Tobin, their agent. Luckily, the morning rush hour was over and Hannah didn’t have to wait too long in the stifling heat until a taxi came.

  “If you can get at least a first draft finished by say, the end of September or early October, that would be in time to get onto a publisher’s spring list,” Tobin said. “Assuming of course, that we secure one by then and they have a chance to see the work. Otherwise, we may have to wait until the following fall.”

  Hannah studied Tobin as she took a bite of her omelet and sipped her mimosa. He had a serious face and was prematurely balding, which made him look older than he probably was. She had a hard time detecting a sense of humor in him, but he seemed to genuinely want to shepherd their work to publication, not merely collect a commission.

  “This is the kind of story that touches people’s hearts. I know readers will love it,” he went on. “That’s why I think the sooner it gets published and out there, the better.”

  “I think we can do it, don’t you, Hannah?” asked Sophie. “That gives us two and a half months to finish it and we can always edit and polish it later.”

  “Yes, I believe we can do it,” said Hannah. “We may have to step it up a bit, but I’m willing to do so because I too, am looking forward to seeing the completed work. I’m happy with Sophie’s work on this.” She reached over and gave Sophie’s arm a squeeze. “This story is very special to me and close to my heart so, as you can understand, I too, want to get it ‘out there,’ but only if it’s done right. We’ll do our best to complete it by the end of September.”

  Hannah had planned that she and Sophie would work that afternoon, but as they stepped out of the café into the noisy street, Sophie said, “Do you mind if we take a walk in the park first?”

  “In this heat? Is there any particular reason?” asked Hannah, who was already imagining herself back in her air-conditioned apartment, with a tall glass of iced tea in her hand.

  “I thought we’d go to Riverside Park. It’s plenty shady there. Walking helps me think and I have a few things on my mind just now.” Quickly Sophie added, “If you don’t want to, we can forget it.”

  “No, let’s go ahead. A good walk won’t hurt me.” Hannah knew well how a walk could help clear one’s head. She thought of the many problems she worked out and decisions made while on walks in a park or even on the streets.

  They decided to take the subway rather than fight for a taxi. Across from Hannah and Sophie sat an obviously homeless man. Several bundles were at his feet. A faint odor of stale sweat hung about him and his mismatched clothes were in need of a wash. Hannah watched as he opened a worn leather instrument case and brought out a clarinet. She gaped in astonishment as he began playing the solo clarinet part from Mozart’s concerto, completely from memory. As the man played, Hannah wondered how it could be that an apparently well trained and talented musician had become homeless. She closed her eyes and leaned back to enjoy the music.

  “Hannah.” Sophie was gently shaking her shoulder. “Hannah, our stop is up next.”

  As the train slowed to a stop, Hannah reached into her bag and drew out a five dollar bill and placed it into the instrument case. “Thank you for the lovely music,” she said. “Mozart knew what he was doing when he wrote that piece, didn’t he?”

  “God bless you ladies and you have a wonderful day,” the man smiled. For a brief moment, Hannah looked into his bright blue eyes and smiled too at how gentle they seemed. She and Sophie barely made it off the train before the doors closed on them.

  The two women walked some distance into the park before Sophie suddenly said, “Eddie and I are moving back in together. We’ve been looking for an apartment.”

  “Oh, so this is what’s on your mind. Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No, I know it’s what I want. When we were in Lake George, I realized that although I’m happy with my life as it is – I love my friends, my family, my work – Eddie completes my life. Without him, there would always be a piece missing. And, I love him.”

  “You know, you can analyze something, look at it from all angles, as well you should. Any important decision requires careful thought. But, your heart will always have the last word.” Hannah let out a deep sigh. “My heart always did, even when it took me to places I thought I’d never go.”

  “We’re getting married, although we’re not sure when.”

  “Now that you’ve decided to, don’t make the same mistake I did and allow everything else to take priority over your lives. Looking back, I see now that John and I should have gotten married when we originally planned. We should have just had a simple, quiet ceremony and then, at a later, more appropriate time, had the reception. By not giving first priority to our relationship, I missed the signs I should have seen that cracks were forming, that John’s insecurity and self-doubt were resurfacing. Once I realized what was happening and tried to repair the damage, to work things through with him, it was too late.”

  They stopped at a bench with a good view of the river. “I do believe this is the same bench where we met,” said Sophie as they sat down.

  “Indeed it is. A lot has happened since then – to both of us,” mused Hannah as she watched a boat glide down the river until it was out of sight.

  Back at Hannah’s apartment, Sophie set her recorder on the dining table. “When did you first begin noticing changes in John, in your relationship?”

  24

  January 1982:

  Around the middle of the month we began filming the series finale of Daily Grind. The story was going to end with the company Dad’s character and the others worked for going out of business. It then followed the characters as each decided what to do next. Dad’s character, Gus, took early retirement and planned to open a neighborhood bar. I could see Dad doing that even in real life. He was a very sociable person and would have loved having a place like a bar that could be a social center.

  My character, Ginny, meets Nate, the geeky one, at a launderette on a Friday night when Nate who, as usual, has no date and is instead doing his laundry. The two hit it off. The others all laughed at the mismatch, but by the end of the story, Ginny and Nate had fallen in love.

  I hit it off in real life too, with Don Matthews, the actor who played Nate. Between takes, we ate together or just sat and talked. He joined the cast only the previous season, so I’d never met him before. He was from Oklahoma and still had a trace of a drawl. I was struck by how tall is he was, taller even than John and almost painfully thin. He had been, as one could guess, a basketball player in college. He also told me the he got into acting quite by accident. He went with a friend to an audition for a stage role and ended up being cast as well. He told me too, that he liked and admired Dad and asked me what it was like to be an actor’s child growing up in Hollywood. I told him
that for me, it was much like growing up anywhere else. My friends and schoolmates all grew up in the industry too, and so the only real difference between us and anyone else is that our Dads’ – and sometimes our Moms’ – “office” was instead a film studio.

  I did pretty well, I think, at hitting my marks and delivering my lines. The one place I had difficulty was the scene where Ginny asks Nate if he’d ever had any musical training and Nate replies that he played the bassoon in his high school orchestra. When Ginny asks why he chose to study the bassoon, Nate replies that he didn’t choose, but was assigned it by the teacher because no one else in the class wanted it. It took four takes for me to stop breaking into laughter when Don delivered that line. He nailed the body language and attitude of the poor put-upon nebbish so perfectly, I couldn’t help myself. I also remembered the bassoonist of the New York Philharmonic and guessed his likely reaction to this implied disrespect of his beloved instrument.

  My friendship with Don which began then has lasted to this day. I’ve seen him and his wife from time to time over the years, when I’ve been in California. He no longer acts, but now heads a production company. The company has produced a number of successful projects, one of which I am very proud to have been a part of.

  The producers threw a wrap party once shooting was complete. I was anxious for John to attend with me because I wanted everyone to meet the man I was going to marry. At first he was reluctant and tried to come up with an excuse not to attend, but I convinced him he’d enjoy himself. Other than Dad, none of the actors had met John, though some had heard of him and were happy to finally meet him. Someone – I can’t remember who now, talked me into playing the piano so they could sing and some even danced. I was even able to get John to accompany me on the drums. He never lost his touch. Up until his death, he kept a drum set in his house and practiced. He even taught his son Robby how to play them. I was glad to see everyone having so much fun. I hoped it would bring John out of his blue funk.

  In bed that night, I said to him, “Aren’t you glad now that you came with me? Everyone was so happy to meet you.” I unbuttoned his shirt to kiss and caress his chest, hoping to arouse him. “I’m so proud of you. I wish I could marry you right now.”

  He caught my hand in his. “No, not tonight,” he said. “I’m so tired, I just want to go to sleep.” He then rolled over and turned his back to me. I couldn’t believe it. He’d never done this before. There were many times when he was too tired to make love, but he always would hold me close to him and let me fall asleep in his arms. I knew then that this time he was deliberately putting distance between us. I still couldn’t fathom why; I thought everything was essentially good between us, but I had no choice but to wait until he was ready to tell me.

  The next few weeks saw the rift between John and I grow ever wider. He continued to be cold and distant and the frequency of our lovemaking dwindled to almost never. When we did make love, I could sense that his mind was troubled and preoccupied. One night, I woke up and John was not in bed. I went looking for him and found him sitting in the dark in the living room. “John, please,” I implored him, “Tell me what’s troubling you. I want to help.”

  “I’m just feeling stressed out right now,” he said. I could tell that he had been weeping. “Go back to bed. I’ll be back in a little bit.” I went, but I lay awake trying to figure out what could possibly make him this upset. No one in his family was sick or having other trouble, so I knew that couldn’t be the problem. He’d auditioned for a movie role that promised to be good and he was still waiting to hear back about it, but something like that wouldn’t cause such anxiety. I made further attempts to get John to open up and confide to me what was upsetting him, but he merely continued to say that he ‘had a lot on his mind.’

  The Grammy Awards were held the last week of February at the Shrine Auditorium, the traditional venue. Whenever I looked at that building, with its four onion domes, one at each corner, I always thought of a castle crossed with a mosque. It seemed to belong more in a medieval setting than in a modern city like Los Angeles.

  I’d assumed that John was coming with me, but that afternoon, he told me he didn’t feel well and to go on without him. I didn’t believe him, and wanted to confront him because by this time, I was convinced that he was involved with another woman, but I had to get ready for the ceremony and couldn’t afford an emotional scene. I had difficulty accepting that possibility, as it never was in John’s nature to be either a liar or a cheat. But, I realized, there was a first time for everything, given the right set of circumstances. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only answer that made sense to me.

  When I sat down next to Dee-Dee, she immediately noticed something wrong and of course, that John wasn’t with me. She started to say something, but apparently changed her mind and instead just took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

  When Snow Queen won for Song of the Year, I was so distracted thinking about John, I didn’t hear the announcement. I couldn’t believe it, even as Dee-Dee and I walked up to the stage to receive the award. As I held it in my hands, I thought back to the Young Songwriters’ Workshop, where all this began. I attended it on a lark, as a diversion, and never dreamt then that I would reap anything like this from it.

  I went with Dee-Dee to the after party where congratulations and kudos were exchanged all around. I met several producers there and they talked to me about my possibly doing a film or TV score for them in the near future. I was glad to think that I may now have a solid future there.

  I’d left Matty with my parents for the night because I knew I’d be late. When I got home, around two-thirty, John was still up. “I watched the ceremony on TV,” he said as he took me in his arms. “I’m so proud of you.” I stiffened, still angry that he didn’t come with me. “Please don’t be angry. I really didn’t feel well and I didn’t want to be a drag on you.” I looked into those blue eyes and chose to believe him, just as I chose to believe as we made love that night that our relationship was again going to be as it was. In truth, that night was its swan song.

  Laurie and James were getting married on March 30th and I was to be her maid of honor. I felt that I had not been there for Laurie as I should have, what with the Grammys and John’s and my relationship foundering. After the Grammys, I put as much of my energy into being with Laurie as I could. I went with her and her mother to dress fittings and helped with other arrangements. Her mother and I hosted a wedding shower. It took my mind off my heartache and my own wedding plans, which I had more or less suspended.

  As I was helping Laurie into her dress on her wedding day, she said, “I’m still looking forward to being your matron of honor, don’t forget. I do hope you and John work things out, that whatever it is that’s bothering him gets resolved.” She tiptoed to the door and took a look out into the church to make sure no one was listening. When she eased the door closed, she said, “I saw him come in with you and one would have to be blind not to see how tense things are between you. Haven’t you been able to get anything out of him about it?”

  “No. I’ve asked time and again, but all he says is that he just needs some space, that he has things on his mind. I’m afraid anymore to ask. The last time I did, he became angry. And, I’m not sure now that I even want to know.” I finished adjusting her train and veil just as her mother came into the dressing room to let us know it was time to start the ceremony.

  The wedding was beautiful. As the nuptial Mass progressed, I looked at both Laurie’s and James’ faces and saw how happy and in love they were. I wanted to cry because I pretty much knew by then that it wasn’t going to happen for John and me. I was happy for her, though. I was happy that she probably would never have to go through what I was going through.

  At the reception, John and I both put up a good front so as not to put a damper on the joy of the occasion. We even danced several dances together, but even as we held each other close, I could feel the distance between us growing almost by the minute.


  Laurie was right about how obvious the tension was between John and me. While she and James were on their honeymoon, I picked up the wedding photos from the photographer for her. When I saw the ones that had John and me in them, we were standing apart, as if we were trying to avoid touching one another and the smiles on our faces looked phony. Even so, it still didn’t prepare me for how our relationship was about to collapse.

  I still believed that John was involved with another woman, so I decided to catch him and force him to own up. I got an opportunity one evening about ten days after Laurie’s wedding when John went out and would only say it was a business dinner. I followed him with Matty in my car until he arrived at a restaurant in Century City. He met two men outside in front, one of whom I recognized as Ron Cooper, his agent. I did not know the second man. No woman was with them. The street was crowded and I had to park the car a block away. I walked back to the restaurant and peeked inside to see if perhaps a woman had joined them. None had. It was only the three of them. Sheepishly, I picked up Matty, hurried back to my car and drove home.

  I did not want to face John, so I made sure to be in bed before he got home. I couldn’t sleep. I was lying still awake when I heard him come in. As soon as he came into the bedroom, he switched on the light. “Hannah, I know you’re awake. I want to know why you were following me tonight.”

  I didn’t bother with pretending that I had been asleep. “All right, John. “Let’s get this out into the open once and for all. I followed you because for the last couple of months, you’ve been cold, distant and uncommunicative. I wanted to find out if you were seeing another woman. I’m sick and tired of being kept in the dark. What in hell is going on with you? Who was with you and Ron Cooper tonight?” I was shouting by now. I got out of bed and faced him, determined not to back down until I got answers.