In March 1969, I gave mother a party for her 61st birthday. It was the first time I’d ever given her a party and I don’t even know where I got the idea, except that I thought it would make her happy. Officially, she was 61, unofficially she was closer to 65 years old. By either count, I guess that’s a long time to wait for your first real family birthday party.
She was absolutely delighted when I suggested the idea of a party to her. I asked her who she’d like me to invite and she made out a list of people. It was going to be quite a feat for my apartment to handle, but I was determined to have it at my home even if some people had to eat dinner in the bedroom! Together, mother and I decided upon the menu, the hors d’oeuvres and the wine. She insisted on buying the wine through the “21” Club and paying for it as well as half the rest of the food. I tried to talk her out of it, using the argument that she shouldn’t have to pay for her own party when I was the one giving it, but she was not to be dissuaded.
It was quite obvious that I couldn’t cook for all the guests, so we arranged to have it catered through the establishment that kept her supplied with food at home.
Beginning early in the morning of that particular March 23rd, my doorbell never stopped buzzing. There was a constant stream of deliveries including a case of wine, liquor, flowers, ice, glasses and finally the food. My own maid, Carrie Rose, had agreed to help me through the entire traumatic day and I don’t think I could have survived it without her. We cleaned the entire apartment until it sparkled, which is a feat in itself in New York City, then Carrie went home and returned late in the afternoon. I had a bartender also and between the three of us, we managed to keep everything running smoothly in spite of limited work space.
Fortunately, everyone mother had on her list and wanted to attend the party was able to attend. They were all impeccably punctual, also in her honor. She had specifically told everyone “no gifts” but I’d invited them to celebrate her birthday and no one arrived empty handed.
At exactly the appointed hour, the guests streamed out of the elevators and down the hall to my apartment. They included Bob and Florence Kriendler from “21”, Mr. and Mrs. Bob Kelly from Pepsi, Dr. and Mrs. Anthony Gristina, Jerry and Minette Pickman who had been close friends for many years, Herb Barnett, who was now Chairman of the Board of Pepsi, and my director Gloria Monty with her husband Bob O’Byrne. As a complete surprise for mother, I’d also invited my sister Cathy and her husband who drove down from upstate New York.
Everyone was complimentary, outgoing and fully prepared to have a festive time. The party was absolutely perfect from beginning to end. Mother was truly surprised to see Cathy and delighted that they had driven down especially for her party. She was genuinely touched with all the gifts and warm feelings. I couldn’t have been happier than I was watching her open her presents just like a little kid on Christmas morning. It had all worked out just as I had hoped. Everyone enjoyed themselves very much.
During the next few months I kept busy going on commercial appointments and working one day a week on the soap. As the weather became warmer, I started going out to Long Island to visit my brother who had just returned from Viet Nam a few months earlier. We’d had a great reunion after what had seemed like the eternity he’d been gone. At first he thought he might stay in the city, but decided he really wanted to live out in the country where he had lots of friends and could get a job outdoors.
I went out several weekends a month through that summer and had a wonderful time. I loved the country, the ocean and the quaint village he’d chosen as his new home. It was a relief from the city’s heat and noise and dirt.
The beginning of August, our new producer from CBS called me into his office and told me that I would only be in a couple more shows. He told me that he was very sorry, but the character had lost its usefulness some time ago. I knew there was a general housecleaning going on at all the network daytime shows now and the news honestly didn’t surprise me a bit. Indeed I thought it was pretty decent of him to tell me in person. They would pay off the rest of my contract and write me out of the program in just three more segments. It was not an unpleasant meeting, since none of the information came as a shock to me.
I called mother to tell her the news and to my surprise, she was very upset. She told me that she’d spoken with this man several months before and he assured her that they had no intention of letting me go. All I could reply to her was, “Well, mother … I’m afraid he lied to you.”
A month or so later I went out to the coast for a short visit to explore the possibility of getting work. Everyone was nice enough, but said that in order to be considered seriously for work, I’d have to plan on living in Los Angeles.
I returned to New York and spent the next six months turning over every stone I could find, looking for work. I got close several times but not close enough for anything except some commercials which I welcomed for their residuals.
My brother got married again that fall. Their wedding was simple and the reception held at his new bride’s home. It was a beautiful autumn day and a happy occasion.
CHAPTER 28
Finally in June 1970, I mustered up all my courage and decided to give Los Angeles another try. I discussed the plan at some length with mother and she very generously offered to let me stay in her apartment in West Hollywood until I found out if I would get work. I was over-whelmed. She’d never offered me a place to stay. Of course she paid rent on the apartment year round and almost never used it, but that didn’t necessarily make any difference. That alone didn’t compel her to offer me the use of it, even temporarily. In addition to the apartment, she offered to call some people for me and see what they could do to help. I sat there looking at her with tears in my eyes. It was also the first time she’d ever offered me any meaningful professional assistance. It was nearly too much for me to handle all in one day. I went to her and put my arms around her, thanking her as I hugged her. She said she’d miss me, but that she knew I was going to do very well.
It took a few weeks to get ready, including finding a friend to look after my own apartment and feed my cats. I said my round of good byes and the remaining days went quickly.
On July 4th Sunday, I flew to Los Angeles. Mother’s secretary picked me up at the airport and drove me to the apartment. It was so completely and totally different from my hasty departure four years earlier. I was such a different person, I’d grown and matured considerably in those four years. I felt a sense of hope and confidence now that I hadn’t before.
Ever since my operation, my entire attitude toward life had changed. I was so glad to just be alive and able to continue my particular journey that I now dealt with problems and setbacks quite differently than ever before. I had a much more determined and positive attitude toward work, a career, making friends and establishing myself as a successful human being. My good relationship with mother over these years helped a great deal. I felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I really felt she loved me and cared about what happened to me. We had been together almost constantly for a long while now and I believed that we had finally, after all the terrible years, come to a mutual understanding of one another.
I knew she didn’t agree with all of my ideas, nor did I always see eye to eye with her, but there was at the very least a mutual truce in those areas of disagreement. At best, we’d had a lot of fun together, she was proud of me and she was showing me in so many little ways that she really cared. In return, I was there for her as a friend, a daughter and when necessary, a companion. She trusted me to tell her the truth as I perceived it and to stand by her when she needed me. Ours was no longer a relationship of emergency, it was no longer a superficial “fix”. We’d shared our thoughts and feelings on many levels and were both quite pleased that after all the years, we’d found one another again. I had a much greater appreciation of her professional achievements, having spent years in the business myself. I think that gave us a basis for respect that was an important bond as wel
l. Though I was certainly no “star” yet, I was making steady progress toward being a well-known actress, talented and professional. I knew better than anyone that I still had a long way to go, but I was still young enough and energetic enough to bear the hardships ahead. With her moral support, I was sure I’d have good luck. I knew only too well that the business was difficult and competitive enough without trying to function with her as an active enemy. I’d learned that once before and I didn’t have to learn it all over again. I’d had to go outside the establishment for all of my early work in the business and I didn’t want to have to be forced to do that again. I really wanted into the mainstream of the business. I wanted to do nighttime television and films. I now had a good deal of experience, a small public following from two years on the soap and a mountain of ambition propelling me onward. If I just didn’t have to fight her too, I was sure I could succeed.
At first I felt very uncomfortable in her apartment. I felt weighted with responsibility. I tried to take care of it even better than I would my own home. I didn’t have any parties, I tried not to make any noise, I didn’t even use two of the rooms. She had a maid who came into clean whether anyone occupied the apartment or not, so the place was always spotless. I just used the kitchen, dining area and one bedroom.
Just a week after my arrival, my former director Gloria gave me a small part on her new daytime show at NBC. It wasn’t anything much, but it was work and I was delighted to be busy so soon. I thought it was probably a good omen.
Every day that I didn’t have an appointment, I spent hours on the phone calling the people mother had referred as well as anyone I knew who might have work. I went out to lunch or dinner almost every day on business. I went to every studio, every independent producer and casting office I could finagle an appointment to see. I hounded the agents until I’m sure they never wanted to hear my name again. I even got an appointment to see Lew Wasserman at Universal Studios. He was very nice to me, asking me about what I’d been doing and why I was in Los Angeles. I told him pointedly that I was here because I wanted to work and I wanted to work at Universal. I’d known Uncle Lew nearly all my life, but mostly when I was just a young girl and he was still mother’s agent at the old MCA. There was no sense trying to hide the past from him, because he knew full well what it was. I simply said that mother had offered me the use of her apartment until I could get settled. It was rather like trying to tell someone you now have the official stamp of approval. The meeting lasted about 15 minutes, so I talked as fast as I could without sounding like a magpie. At the end, he leaned forward slightly behind his football-field desk and asked, “Christina, are you happy with your life?” I was quite taken aback with the question. It was so direct. I replied, “Yes, very.” It was hardly a profound answer, but it was the best I could muster on such short notice. He nodded his head and wished me good luck. We shook hands and I left.
It had been a very pleasant business meeting with a man who was now very important and almost impossible to get to see. However, I realized as I was going down in the elevator that I had absolutely no idea what the outcome of the meeting was or even if there was an outcome at all!
However, very shortly after that, I was called into the Universal casting office to audition for a small part on Vince Edwards new series. It turned out to be only one day’s work, but I’d said I wanted to work and that’s exactly what I meant. I took the job.
My rented car was beginning to cost a fortune, so when friends of mother’s told me they were going on vacation for a few weeks and offered me the use of one of their cars I happily accepted. For reasons I never totally understood, mother was furious with me when I mentioned it to her. I was calling her nearly every day to let her know about my progress and particularly when I actually got work even though the first two jobs were meager. She wanted me to return the car immediately, but I told her I couldn’t because her friends wouldn’t be home for another week. She told me to return it immediately upon their return and never to borrow anything from her friends again! She was really mad at me.
I was very hurt by her outburst. We hadn’t had anything like this happen between us in many, many years and I couldn’t understand what had set her off about this. The people were very close friends, they were simply being kind to her daughter because of their friendship with her. I didn’t understand why that made her so angry. I just tried to rationalize it away by thinking that I’d inadvertently caught her in a bad mood and this was just a momentary thing, she’d forget about tomorrow. But she sounded very cold to me toward the end of our conversation and that tone of voice brought forth all my old insecurities about our relationship. In fact, I was so upset that I called my therapist in New York to ask him for his more objective opinion. He also felt that the outburst was momentary in light of the last four years. We were both wrong.
A few days later, the Los Angeles secretary called me about 7:30 in the morning, waking me up. I thought something was wrong because she never called me this early. Evidently, she’d just spoken to my mother in New York and had called to relay the message. She said that mother was coming out to do a show, so I’d have to find another place to live. As it turned out, I had exactly two days in which to move. I was barely awake, but I knew something was fishy about the whole thing. Why didn’t mother tell me herself? I’d been talking to her every day. Why did she have the secretary tell me to move? I asked the secretary a couple of questions and then decided to call mother directly. I couldn’t get through to mother at the apartment. The operator at the Pepsi switchboard said her lines were all busy, so I left a message. But, she didn’t call me right back. I didn’t talk to her for three days.
Something in my bones told me that this whole situation stunk. I’d only been in Los Angeles six weeks. I’d only been away from mother six weeks, but something had gone wrong behind my back and I knew it. I just didn’t have any idea what it was or exactly where it had come from. Certainly there was no indication of trouble from mother herself, except just that one minor thing about the borrowed car. She had done nothing but help me the whole time I’d been here. But something about this was wrong or she wouldn’t be hiding behind the secretary. It just didn’t sit right with my intuition and my intuition was rarely wrong after all these years.
The secretary called me back to say that the maid was coming that morning to change the sheets and clean the apartment and that if I could move out before she finished, she wouldn’t have to come back before mother arrived in Los Angeles two days later. Now I just had today in which to find another place to stay. I called a girlfriend who had an apartment in the Hollywood hills and asked if I could stay with her and then sublet the apartment when she returned to New York. She agreed, so I called another friend with a car and asked him to help me move that afternoon. Mother’s secretary arrived a couple hours later and stayed for the rest of the day. I had the distinct feeling that she was watching me to make sure I didn’t take anything that didn’t belong to me. It was just a feeling. She was the same one who had accused me of taking my own dresser set out of the Brentwood house years before when I left for college, so we had a history of not particularly caring for one another.
It was amazing, but when I finally reached mother several days later to give her my new telephone number and address, she acted like nothing had happened! The secretary had told me that the locks on the apartment had been changed immediately after my departure and the phone number was also changed a few days later. Yet mother acted as though everything was normal. It was so strange that if I’d had a brain in my head, I’d have asked mother what in the hell was going on out here. But, instead, I made the error of opting for continued peace and quiet. I kept it all to myself and didn’t say a word.
Needless to say, mother didn’t come out to Los Angeles two days later. Mysteriously enough, after I moved out of her apartment, she changed her plans. In fact she didn’t come back to Los Angeles for several months. The whole thing was just a made-up situation, a ploy to get me to mo
ve. It was one of those situations I didn’t deal with very well at all, even now with all the changing and growing I thought I’d done. So, there the apartment sat, totally unoccupied and locked up for months. In other words, it returned to it’s normal state. What was all that upset about, anyway? To this day I do not know because mother never said another word to me about it. She never voiced her displeasure to me about anything I’d done. She never said a word to me personally.
The next month I did a much larger part on Medical Center over at MGM. To my surprise, the show was being directed by one of mother’s former directors and one of my former “uncles.” I was delighted to see him and very happy to be working with him.
The show went well and I received some nice publicity out of it. The director wrote mother a nice note about what a good actress I’d turned out to be and how proud she must be of my talent and professional attitude. Mother wrote back that she was glad he felt that way. Weird.
In October, just three months after my arrival in Los Angeles, I was offered my first guest star part on television. I didn’t audition for it, I don’t know exactly how it all came about except that I’d been to see a number of the people at Universal and done what amounted to a paid screen test for them in August. My agents called to tell me that I had the guest lead on Marcus Welby and that I was to report to the studio immediately for costume fittings. That was Thursday. The show began shooting on Monday morning. I was so excited it’s a miracle I didn’t have an automobile accident driving the short distance from my apartment to the studio. I had a gate pass waiting for me and drove right up to the wardrobe department. This was the real thing. The producers came to congratulate me while I was being fitted for the clothes and brought me a script. I could hardly wait to get home and read it. I could hardly wait to get home and call my mother with the great news. She was going to be so pleased. My very first guest starring part and I hadn’t been here even six months. It was all beginning to pay off.
Mommie Dearest Page 51