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Chapter 8
I began eating out more and more often. I would have enjoyed a home-cooked meal occasionally but Mrs. Dougherty wasn’t cooking for me and Mr. Pierce wanted me to eat out with him and sometimes other clients.
This particular afternoon I was eating out at a small (but pricey) café with Mr. Pierce and a man named Ben Lyon. Mr. Ben Lyon was in the film business and I was hoping he might give me a chance to prove my acting talents. Mr. Pierce didn’t know of my hopes to become a film star though; he had set this meeting up because Mr. Lyon was a friend of his who had admired my picture in a magazine.
The two friends were discussing some sporting event as we took our seat at a table in the window. I had never really been interested in sports, so I took the opportunity to study and compare the two men.
Mr. Pierce had more attractive features overall. He had bright blue eyes and chestnut-brown hair that looked like it would be soft to touch.
On the other hand, Mr. Ben Lyon had dark, brooding eyes, thin black hair, and a pale complexion that appeared almost unhealthy. His ears protruded awkwardly as well, and his legs seemed too long for the rest of his body. Still, Mr. Lyon was very charming.
“Ben, this is Miss Norma Jean Dougherty. Norma, this is Ben Lyon.”
Mr. Pierce often called me miss. I often wondered if he knew I was married. It didn’t really matter though; Mrs. sounded old and unattractive.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I smiled at Mr. Pierce’s friend. Mr. Lyon took my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it softly.
“The pleasure is all mine.” He grinned at me. I smiled bashfully and bat my eyes; I wanted desperately to win him over. How incredible would it be if I could become a movie star?
“Ben was telling me how much he liked your photograph on the cover of Man to Man Magazine.” Mr. Pierce explained to me again. That was a picture of me in lingerie, if I remembered correctly. What a typical man!
“Why thank you Mr. Lyon. They also put that picture in a calendar.”
“Yes.” Mr. Lyon nodded, smiling almost shyly. “I went out and bought it almost immediately.” He looked so embarrassed that couldn’t hold back my giggle. Mr. Lyon didn’t look upset though. Instead, he told me, “You have the prettiest laugh I have ever heard!”
“And you are very entertaining! If you can make a girl laugh, you can make her do anything.”
Mr. Lyon erupted in laughter and Mr. Pierce chuckled as well.
A waiter in his 20’s came up to take our orders. I noticed his eyes were constantly on me but I didn’t say anything. When he walked away though, Mr. Pierce commented.
“The boy couldn’t take his eyes off you!”
“Well, she is a beauty.” Mr. Lyon remarked.
“You are just full of compliments today, Mr. Lyon.”
We talked for a little longer as we enjoyed our lunch before Mr. Lyon finally said what I had been hoping to hear.
“Norma, have you ever considered acting?” He had his “business-face” on.
“I’ve thought about it. Why do you ask?” I played dumb.
“Well,” Mr. Lyon scratched his chin. “I think you could be Jean Harlow all over again, and I’d like to make that happen.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth, feigning surprise. “You really do?”
Mr. Lyon nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s another reason I arranged this lunch. I wanted to see how strong your personality is and Norma, you are perfect for this. If you want to do this, I’ll give you a job with Fox Studios under a 6-month contract and in that time we will land you a role in a film. What do you say?”
“How much does it pay?” This sounded too good to be true.
“$125 a week sound good?”
I was only getting $50 or $75 a week modeling.
“It sounds like a deal!”
And so I was introduced to the world of acting.
I said my good-byes to everyone at the Blue Book Modeling Agency on Thursday. They were sad to see me go, especially Mr. Pierce. He said to me,
“If I had known this was going to happen, I would have never introduced you to Ben Lyon. We’re all going to miss you.” That was just about as heartfelt as I had ever seen Mr. Pierce be.
I had been invited to stay with Ben and his wife, Bebe, at their beach home for the weekend, so I was planning on packing my bags Thursday evening and being picked up by Mr. Lyon on Friday morning. I hadn’t told Mrs. Dougherty that I would be leaving for the weekend. I was planning on telling her when I got back from the agency.
I came home, if you could call it a home, around 12 in the afternoon. Mrs. Dougherty still thought I worked at the factory and that my shift ended at 6 at night, so she was bound to know something was amiss.
I walked into the kitchen to have a drink when I saw Mrs. Dougherty already sitting at the table with a big, sly grin on her face.
“Would you like some tea or coffee, Norma?”
I studied her suspiciously. “Not when you have that look on your face. You’ll probably try to poison me.” I poured myself some apple cider. Why wasn’t Mrs. Dougherty asking why I was home early?
“Jim wrote a letter to you.” She pulled a crumpled letter out of her pocket.
“I’m assuming you read it.” It wasn’t a question. The seal on the letter had obviously been broken. Nevertheless, I picked the crumpled paper up, straightened it out, and began to read.
March 3rd, 1946
Dear Norma,
War is tough. I haven’t been in any action, but the conditions are still harsh. Of course, I couldn’t expect you to understand hard work. I know you quit your job at the factory to start modeling. Some pals of mine were ogling at a picture of you in an army magazine. Do you know how that made me feel, having my friends drooling over a picture of my wife? Not to mention you dyed your hair and you were only wearing a bathing suit.
What has gotten into you, Norma? You knew I wouldn’t approve of you modeling but you deceived me and did it anyway. A wife’s duty is to stay loyal to her husband, and I find that sort of deception disloyal. I will be returning home shortly with the money needed to support this family. I expect you to have dyed your hair back to brown and to have quit modeling by the time I return a week’s time.
I will see you shortly.
Love,
Jim Dougherty
I put the paper down in silence, clenching my jaw angrily.
“Shame on you, Norma. Lies always catch up to the liar.” I glared at her. What right did Jim have to hold me back? This was my childhood dream, for god’s sakes! To model, to act, that was all I ever wanted! “Aren’t you going to write back, Norma?”
“I’ll speak to him when he returns.” I told Mrs. Dougherty shortly. “By the way, I will be going away for the weekend. I’ll be back Monday morning.”
“But Jim will be back on Tuesday, the 10th! We need this weekend to prepare for his return. You’re not going.”
“Watch me!” I spat at her before storming off to my bedroom. I had been waiting, just waiting for Jim’s return so that I may move out of this damned house. Now, in hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have waited for his return. Who knew if Jim would be coming with me to my new life?
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