A moment later, there was another knock on my door. It was Ruby Reilly. She was shooting a drama where she played a young nun. She was standing in front of the two of us in a black tunic and a white cowl. Her hood was in her hand.
“Did you hear?” Ruby said to me. “Well, of course you heard. Harry’s here.”
Harry laughed. “You both start rehearsals in three weeks.”
Ruby hit Harry on the arm playfully. “No, not that part! Did you hear Celia St. James is playing Beth? That tart’s gonna show us all up.”
“See, Harry?” I said. “Celia St. James is going to ruin everything.”
THE MORNING WE STARTED REHEARSALS for Little Women, Don woke me up with breakfast in bed. Half a grapefruit and a lit cigarette. I found this highly romantic, because it was exactly what I wanted.
“Good luck today, sweetheart,” he said as he got dressed and headed out the door. “I know you’ll show Celia St. James what it really means to be an actress.”
I smiled and wished him a good day. I ate the grapefruit and left the tray in bed as I got into the shower.
When I got out, our maid, Paula, was in the bedroom cleaning up after me. She was picking the butt of my cigarette off the duvet. I’d left it on the tray, but it must have fallen.
I didn’t keep a neat house.
My clothes from last night were on the floor. My slippers were on top of the dresser. My towel was in the sink.
Paula had her work cut out for her, and she didn’t find me particularly charming. That much was clear.
“Can you do that later?” I said to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m in a rush to get to set.”
She smiled politely and left.
I wasn’t in a rush, really. I just wanted to get dressed, and I wasn’t going to do that in front of Paula. I didn’t want her to see that there was a bruise, dark purple and yellowing, on my ribs.
Don had pushed me down the stairs nine days before. Even as I say it all these years later, I feel the need to defend him. To say that it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. That we were toward the bottom of the stairs, and he gave me a shove that bumped me down about four steps and onto the floor.
Unfortunately, the table by the door, where we kept the keys and the mail, is what caught my fall. I landed on it on my left side, the handle on the top drawer getting me right in the rib cage.
When I said that I thought I might have broken a rib, Don said, “Oh, no, honey. Are you all right?” as if he wasn’t the one who pushed me.
Like an idiot, I said, “I think I’m fine.”
The bruise wasn’t going away quickly.
Paula burst back in through the door a moment later.
“Sorry, Mrs. Adler, I forgot the—”
I panicked. “For heaven’s sake, Paula! I asked you to leave!”
She turned around and walked out. And what pissed me off more than anything was that if she was going to sell a story, why wasn’t it that one? Why didn’t she tell the world that Don Adler was beating his wife? Why, instead, did she come after me?
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, I was on the set of Little Women. The soundstage had been turned into a New England cabin, complete with snow on the windows.
Ruby and I were united in our fight against Celia St. James stealing the movie from us, despite the fact that anyone who plays Beth leaves the audience reaching for the hankies.
You can’t tell an actress that a rising tide lifts all boats. It doesn’t work that way for us.
But on the first day of rehearsals, as Ruby and I hung out by craft services and drank coffee, it became clear that Celia St. James had absolutely no idea how much we all hated her.
“Oh, God,” she said, coming up to Ruby and me. “I’m so scared.”
