A fire marshal appeared at our door. "The fire is moving pretty fast. Start to evacuate."
Jorja hurriedly gathered the things she needed. I took Mary, who was five years old at the time, by the hand and whisked her out to the car. I had to quickly decide what I was going to take with me. In the den I had a collection of awards, a shelf full of first-edition books, research papers, sport clothes, and my favorite golf clubs. But there was something more important to take.
Rushing back inside, I grabbed a handful of pens and half a dozen yellow pads I could have replaced at any dime store, because somewhere deep inside me I thought we might have to spend a few weeks in a hotel, and I instinctively knew I could not let my writing be interrupted. That was all I took from the house.
"I'm ready."
Fortunately, the fire department was able to control the fire and our house was untouched.
It was a familiar voice on the phone. "The critics are crazy. I read the script of Roman Candle and I loved it." It was Don Hartman.
"Thanks, Don. I appreciate it." Send no flowers.
"I have a project I'd like you to write. It's called All in a Night's Work. Dean Martin and Shirley MacLaine are going to star in it. Hal Wallis is producing it. We have a screenplay that's pretty good, but it has to be rewritten for our stars."
"I enjoy working with Dean."
"Fine. How soon can you start?"
"I'm afraid I can't start right now, Don. I'll need about fifteen minutes."
He laughed. "We'll call your agent."
It was good to be back at Paramount. It had given me so many wonderful memories. There were still a lot of familiar faces around - producers, directors, writers, secretaries. I felt that I had come home again.
I had an appointment with Hal Wallis. I had met him a few times socially, but I had never worked with him. He had produced a string of prestigious movies, among them Little Caesar, The Rainmaker, I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, and The Rose Tattoo. Hal was a short, compactly built man with a grave manner. Now in his seventies, he was more active than he had ever been.
As I walked into his office, he rose. "I asked for you," he said, "because I think this picture is right up your alley."
"I'm looking forward to working on it."
We discussed the movie and he told me his vision of it. As I was leaving, he said, "By the way, I read Roman Candle. It's a great play."
Too late, Hal. "Thanks."
It was time to go to work.
Edmund Beloin and Maurice Richlin had written the screenplay and it was excellent, but Don was right. It had to be tailored for Dean and Shirley. They were both such distinctive personalities that the adaptation was easy, and I began writing.
One evening, when I got home from the studio, Jorja was waiting for me with a large bouquet of flowers. She was beaming.
"Happy Father's Day."
I looked at her in surprise. "Today isn't - " And then I realized what she was saying. I grabbed her in my arms and hugged her.
"Do you want a girl or a boy?" she asked.
"Two of each."
"That's easy for you to say."
I held her closer. "It doesn't matter, darling. Let's just hope the baby turns out to be as wonderful as Mary."
Mary was then five years old. How was she going to feel about having a brother or sister? "Are you going to tell Mary or should I?"
"I've already told her."
"How did she react?"
"Well, she said she was very happy, but a few minutes later I saw her counting the steps from our room to her room, and the steps from our room to where the nursery is going to be."
I laughed. "She'll love being a big sister."
"What are we going to call the baby?" I asked.
"If it's a girl, I'd like to name her Alexandra."
"That's a pretty name. If it's a boy, let's name him Alexander. That means defender of mankind."
Jorja smiled. "Sounds good."
We talked all night about our plans for Mary and the baby. In the morning I was exhausted, but happy. Incredibly happy.
The screenplay for All in a Night's Work was coming along well. I conferred with Hal Wallis from time to time and his comments were always helpful. Sets were being built and a director named Joseph Anthony was brought on board.
Cliff Robertson and Charles Ruggles were added to the cast. Although I had worked with Dean before, I had never met Shirley MacLaine. All I knew about her was that she was a very talented actress and that she believed she had lived many previous lives. Maybe she had. But when I met her in her present life, she turned out to be a dynamic redhead with a wellspring of energy.
"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.