“Sidney Sheldon.”
She looked at me closely. “Shirley MacLaine. It’s nice to meet you, Sidney.”
I wondered whether we had met in another life.
Dean grinned when he saw me. “You haven’t had enough of me yet?”
“Never.”
Dean had not changed at all. He was the same relaxed, easygoing man I had known, completely unaffected by his status as a star.
After they split up, Jerry made forty more films and devoted himself to raising money for children with muscular dystrophy. Dean went on making movies and starred in a television show, which was a big success.
Television fit Dean’s lifestyle perfectly. His contract with the network said he did not have to rehearse. He walked in, did the show, and said good night. And the show was terrific.
Jorja and I gave dinner parties and were invited out. In order not to emulate Otto’s penchant for using his friends, I went too far the other way and unintentionally hurt some wonderful people. Eddie Lasker was the heir to the fabulous Lord & Thomas advertising agency. His wife, Jane Greer, was a beautiful and successful actress. They would invite us to their home frequently and their parties were lavish. Jorja and I enjoyed being with them.
One night, Eddie said, “We have such a good time together, why don’t we have a standing date once a week?”
And I thought: I can’t afford to entertain as lavishly as they do. I would be taking advantage of them. And I said, “Eddie, let’s just see each other when we can.”
I could see the hurt on his face.
Another couple we enjoyed was Arthur Hornblow and his wife, Lenore. Arthur Hornblow was a successful producer.
“I have a project I think you would enjoy,” Arthur said one day.
He’s very successful and I need a job, but I don’t want to take advantage of him. And I said, “Let’s just see each other socially, Arthur.”
And I lost a friend.
All in a Night’s Work was finished and a short time later Jorja was ready to deliver our second baby. This time I was ready. I knew where the hospital was and we left early enough so that there would be no last-minute dash. We were given a room at the hospital and there was nothing to do now but wait for the arrival of our—Boy? Girl? It really did not matter.
Our obstetrician, Dr. Blake Watson, had already arrived at the hospital.
At one o’clock in the morning, Alexandra arrived. I was waiting outside the delivery room when Dr. Watson and two nurses came hurrying out. Dr. Watson was carrying the baby, wrapped in a blanket.
“Doctor, how is—?”
He rushed past me. I began to panic. A moment later, Jorja was wheeled out of the delivery room to be taken to her room. She looked very pale.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
I took her hand. “Everything is fine. I’ll be in to see you in a few minutes.”
I watched them wheel her down the corridor. Then I hurried to find Dr. Watson.
As I was passing the newborn intensive care unit, I saw him through the window. He and two other doctors were standing over a crib in a heated discussion. My heart began to pound. I wanted to burst into the room, but I forced myself to wait. When Dr. Watson looked up and saw me, he said something to the others. They all turned to look at me. I was finding it hard to breathe. Dr. Watson came out into the corridor.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “What’s—what’s wrong?” I could hardly speak.
“I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Mr. Sheldon.”
“The baby is dead!”
“No. But—” He was finding it difficult to go on. “Your baby was born with spina bifida.”
I wanted to shake him. “What does that—? Tell me in plain English.”
“Spina bifida is a birth defect. During the first months of pregnancy, the spine doesn’t close properly. When the baby is born, it has only a thin layer of skin over its spine. The spinal cord is really protruding through the back. It’s one of the most—”
“Well, for God’s sake, fix it!” I was screaming.