“It was just as terrible for me. I thought I'd die without you and the kids. Suddenly, I realized all we had, even without our old life and a big house …”

“We don't need all that.” She sniffed and smiled. “But we do need you.”

“Not as much as I need you, Faye Thayer.” He looked at her hesitantly. “Or is it Faye Price again?”

She laughed through her tears. “Not a chance!” And at the same time noticed that he was still wearing his wedding band too. And at that exact moment, Greg was calling to him from the house.

“I'm coming, son! Just a minute.” He shouted back. There was so much left to say, but Faye slid slowly out of the car.

“Go ahead. They've missed you too.”

“Not half as much as I've missed them,” and then, with a look of desperation in his eyes, as he reached out and grabbed her arm, “Faye, please … can we try again? I'll do anything you want. I stopped drinking as soon as I left. I realized what a complete jerk I had been. I've got a lousy job, but at least it's something … Faye …” Tears filled his eyes and suddenly he couldn't contain his feelings for her anymore. He bowed his head and began to cry, and after a moment he looked at her honestly. “I didn't know what to do with myself when you went to work. I felt as though I wasn't a man anymore … as though I never had been … but, oh God, I don't want to lose you, Faye … please … oh babe, please …” He pulled her into his arms, and Faye felt as though her heart had found its home again. She had never really given up on him. She wasn't even sure she ever could. She put her head on his shoulder and the tears began to flow again.

“I hated you so much for a while … or at least I wanted to …”

“I wanted to hate you too, but I knew I was the one who was wrong.”

“Maybe I was too. Maybe going back to work wasn't the right thing, but I didn't know what else to do.”

He shook his head. “You were right,” and then he smiled at her through his own tears, “you and your crazy ideas about making me a producer one day …” He smiled tenderly at her. What a good woman she was, how lucky he was to have her back in his arms, even for an hour or two.

She was shaking her head at him. “That wasn't a crazy idea. It's possible, Ward. I could teach you everything you need to know. You could hang around the set on this next film.” She looked hopeful but this time he shook his head.

“Can't. I'm a working man now. Nine to five and all that.”

She laughed. “All right, but you could still be a producer one day, if that's what you want.”

He sighed and put an arm around his wife. “Sounds like pipe dreams to me, my friend.”

“Maybe not.” She looked up at him, wondering what life would bring. At least it had brought him home to her again.

He stood in the doorway to the ugly house in Monterey Park, looking at her. “Do we give it another try? … No … more correctly, will you give me another chance, Faye?” She looked at him long and hard, and slowly a small smile dawned in her eyes. It was a smile born of wisdom and disappointment and pain. She was no longer a young girl. Life was no longer the same as it had been a few years before. Her whole world had turned upside down, and she had survived. And now this man was asking her to walk along beside him again. He had hurt her, deserted her, cheated on her, betrayed her. And yet, deep inside, she still knew that he was her friend, that he loved her, and she him, and that she always would. He didn't have the same instincts that she had, and was not nearly as well equipped to survive. But perhaps, side by side, hand in hand … maybe … just maybe … in fact, she was sure of it. More important, she was sure of him again.

“I love you, Ward.” She smiled up at him, feeling suddenly young again. It had been an endless few months without him. She never wanted to live through that again. She could survive anything but that, even poverty.

He stood kissing her then, as the children looked on, and suddenly they all began to laugh, and Greg pointed at them, laughing the hardest of all, as Ward and Faye began laughing too. Life was sweet again, as it had been long before, only better now. They had both been through hell and back, not unlike Guadalcanal in some ways. But they had won the war. Finally. And now life could begin again. For all of them.





CHAPTER 10




Ward gave up his furnished room in West Hollywood, without ever staying there again, and he moved back into the ugly house he hated so much in Monterey Park, without ever noticing this time how dreary it was. It looked wonderful to him as he carried his bags up the stairs to their room.

They had three idyllic weeks before the children went back to school, and Faye began her new film. And when she did, he insisted that she take the car, while he took the bus to work, which saved her hours on the bus at 4 and 5 A.M., and she was grateful to him. He was nicer to her than he had ever been before. And if it was no longer emerald pendants and ruby pins, it was dinners he had prepared for her with his own hands, and then kept warm until she came home, little presents he bought when he got paid, like a book, or a radio, or a warm sweater for her to wear on the set. It was massages he gave her when she was so tired she wanted to cry, and the hot baths he ran with bath oil he had bought. He was so good to her, at times it almost made her cry. Month after month he proved to her how much he loved her, and she proved the same to him, and from the ashes of their old life emerged a stronger relationship than they had ever had before and the ugly months began to fade. Still they rarely allowed themselves to reminisce about the old days. It was too painful for both of them.

In many ways Faye enjoyed her new life. Her first job as director went very well, and she was given three pictures to do in 1954, all with major stars. Each of them was a major box-office hit. She had begun to make a name for herself in Hollywood again, not as a pretty face or a big star, but as a director with a fine mind, a great gift, and amazing power with her stars. She could get a heartrending performance out of a rock Abe Abramson said, and Dore Schary didn't disagree with him. They were both proud of her, and when the first offer of 1955 came in, Faye demanded what she had wanted from them for years. She had been grooming him ever since he came back, and she knew he was ready now. Her agent almost fell off his seat when she explained her conditions to him.

“And you want me to tell Dore that?” He looked shocked. The guy didn't know a damn thing about pictures and Faye was out of her goddamn mind as far as he was concerned. He had thought she was crazy when she took him back. It was the first time he had ever disagreed with her, but he never told her what he thought. Not then. But he did now. “You're nuts! They'll never buy a package like that. He has no background at all. The guy is thirty-eight years old, Faye, and he has no more idea how to be a producer than my dog.”

“That's a disgusting thing to say, and I don't give a damn what you think. He's learned something about finance in the last two years, he has a sharp mind, and he has some influential friends.” But more importantly than that, Ward had finally grown up, and Faye was enormously proud of him.

“Faye, I just can't sell a package like that.” Abe was sure of it.

“Then you can't sell me, Abe. Those are my terms.” She was as hard as rock, and Abe wanted to reach across his desk and strangle her.

“You're making a big mistake. You're going to blow everything. If you screw this up, no one will ever touch you again. You know damn well how hard it was to sell a woman director at first. And everyone is just waiting for you to fall on your face. No one else will give you the chance Dore gave you, not again….” He was running out of arguments, and she held up a hand, bare of rings except for her simple gold wedding band which she hadn't taken off since her wedding day. All the other jewelry Ward had given her had been sold long ago. She didn't even miss it anymore. It was part of another life, another time.

“I know all of that, Abe. And you know what I want.” She stood up and looked down at him. “You can do it if you try. It's up to you. But those are my terms.” He wanted to throw something at the door after she left.

But he was even more stunned when MGM accepted her terms.

“They're even crazier than you are, Faye.”

“They said yes?” She was in shock as she clutched the phone.

“You two start next month. At least he does. He starts first and then you come into it once the film gets under way. Producer, director, with your own offices at MGM.” He still couldn't get over it, and he sat at his desk shaking his head. “Good luck … and listen, you'd both better get your asses in here and sign the contracts right away before they come to their senses and change their minds.”

“We'll come in this afternoon.”

“Damn right,” he growled. And when they did go in Faye was proud of Ward again.

It was a terrible thing to say, but the hard times had been good for him. There was an air of quiet maturity about him now, and intelligence. Abe began to think he might just pull it off after all, and he knew she'd do everything to help. He wound up shaking hands with both of them and kissing Faye's cheek, wishing them luck, and shaking his head once they had left. You never knew … it was possible … just possible….

The movie was a huge box-office hit, and their career took off after that, producing and directing two to three films a year. In 1956 they were finally able to leave the house Ward had hated so much, although now neither of them had time to notice it. They rented another house for two years. And in 1957, five years after they had left, they were in Beverly Hills again. Not in the grandiose splendor they once had known, but in a pretty, well-kept house with a garden front and back, five bedrooms, which gave them an office at home, and a modest swimming pool. The children were enchanted with it, and Abe Abramson was happy for them. But not as happy as Ward and Faye Thayer were. They had made it back. It was like returning from the war all over again, and they clung to their careers for dear life, appreciating every moment of it.