Names: Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis
Year: 1948
Ages: 31 and 22
As soon as Dean walks into the room, he can sense something is wrong. Jerry is lying fully-clothed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling unblinkingly, not even acknowledging Dean entering the room. The silence is unnerving for Dean, as usually the Kid is practically begging for his attention the moment he sees him—like he's been waiting for hours to talk to Dean.
Dean crosses the room and stands at the window with his back to Jerry, waiting for him to say something or sneak up and jump on his neck—do anything. A minute passes, and it seems like far longer as discomfort hangs in the air; usually Dean hopes for silence more than anything . . . Not this time. He opens his mouth to say something, he's not sure what yet, he's saved from figuring it out when Jerry abruptly says, "I cheated on Patti."
Shock makes the hairs on Dean's arms stand on end, but he keeps his face level when he turns to Jerry. Staying on his back, Jerry's eyes flit down to Dean, clouded with confusion, maybe guilt.
"Oh." Is all Dean says, and he knows he doesn't have to ask for Jerry to tell him the story.
"I just went out with this girl who was at our show last night, and . . . I don't know . . . it just sorta happened. But . . . well, you do it all the time!" Jerry exclaims, flustered, and when Dean doesn't respond, he hurriedly adds, "Not that it's your fault, Paul, I wasn't saying that, I just—well, people like us do that all the time, right?"
Dean can see the pleading in his eyes, and knows that Jerry just wants to hear that it's okay. Who was he to say the Kid was wrong, anyhow? Although Dean certainly could care less who went out with who, he feels . . . guilty. Aduzipach! But that's crazy! The Kid's full grown, he can make his own damn decisions. If he wants to imitate Dean, then let him! He ignores the voice that says Jerry idolizes him, that the Kid would do anything he did without question—isn't that Dean's responsibility then?
"You can do what you want, Jer . . . I'm not you . . . You love Patti, right?" The Kid nods desperately.
"Well, I love Betty and my kids, and what I do away from home is my business—I don't bring it home with me, and it doesn't hurt them." Dean slowly says, shifting in his shoes uncomfortably. "You shouldn't feel like you have to do anything, but don't let anyone tell me you can't do something, either. Do what makes you happy coz you're the one who has to live your life, nobody else . . . Yeah." Dean shrugs his shoulders, satisfied with his explanation.
Jerry looks back up at the ceiling, tapping the mattress restlessly with his fingers. Yeah, that makes sense. He loves Patti. He's happy this way, so what's wrong with that? He fights to dissipate the guilt eating at the edges of his mind, curling his lips into a perpetual frown.
Finally he rationalizes it out, and sits up, a somewhat forced smile plastered on his face.
"Thanks, Dean, that really helped."
"Sure, kid." Dean's voice is softer than normal—was that uneasiness Jerry sensed? He couldn't be judging him, that was for sure. Oh, well, he was sure Dean just didn't care.
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Names: Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis
Year: 1948
Ages: 31 and 22
Jerry can't help the persistent grin on his face. He has always imagined what it would be like to sit in a canvas director's chair—one with his name on it would be a dream come true. He has always imagined what it would be like there on set, behind the scenes where you can see all the cameras, all the lights, all the people bustling around getting the props and people ready. He has always imagined what it would be like to meet someone like Stan Laurel or Rudolph Valentino—someone who he can hardly believe exists in real life.
YOU ARE READING
Won't You Love Me?
Historical FictionA lonely, gawky Jewish boy who hides behind the face of a clown to gain love and acceptance. A smooth-talking, Italian singer who wished the world didn't love him so much. Could it be that these two polar opposites could become the greatest comedy d...