Jamie Lee escorted Cher and I to her living room to the right of her reception hall.
"Make yourselves comfortable," she said. "What can I get you to drink?"
"After that wild ride," Cher said smiling over at me, "I would love a glass of white wine."
"I kept it under a 100 after that first burst of speed," I said with a chuckle.
"And what can I get you, Freddie?"
"Coffee if you have any made or if not—"
"I have coffee. How do you take it?"
"Black."
"Coming right up."
I couldn't believe I was being waited on by Jamie Lee Curtis. This was bizarre and she appeared normal, just like an average person. She was so unpretentious.
We sat and made ourselves comfortable in the living room and Jamie disappeared in the kitchen. It was a fairly large room with a fireplace, built-in bookcases, pocket doors, and beamed ceilings. All the architectural detail of a Tudor home circa the early 20th century was present including leaded windows and hardwood floors. It was a beautifully decorated with thick carpeting and expensive window treatments that all added to the coziness of the home.
"I'm going to see if Jamie needs help in the kitchen," said Cher. I never imagined movie stars being domesticated enough to even make coffee. I figured, unrealistically, that they had a staff of servants who took care of everything.
I wondered what they were talking about in the kitchen. I figured they were talking about me. I figured Cher was asking her what she thought of me. I listened to hear them talking or whispering, but I didn't hear anything from where I sat in the living room.
Jamie returned with a tray that held a veggie and fruit platter and Cher held a tray with coffee and two cups and her wine. I noticed that Jamie drank her coffee black, too.
"I love coffee, but found out recently that I'm lactose intolerant, which is why I have my coffee black, now," she said sitting on the couch next to Cher and crossing her legs while directing her conversation to Cher. She appeared nervous.
"I know that, Jamie," Cher patted her hand in an attempt to relax her.
I couldn't believe that I was making Jamie Lee nervous.
"I'm lactose intolerant, too," I said, "which is why I take my coffee black, also."
Jamie looked at me and smiled. She relaxed with what I had said and with the help of Cher, we sat and chatted and laughed like old friends.
The buzz from the gate speaker interrupted our good time and Jamie stood to see who was at the gate. Cher peeked out the window, finished the last of her wine, and stood.
I stood too thinking that we were suddenly leaving.
"I'm going to leave you two love birds alone," she said looking at me and then at Jamie making her blush. "I made arrangements with the Ritz for a car and my ride is here."
Jamie buzzed the gate open and a shiny, black Mercedes limousine sat waiting in the driveway.
"Cher thank you for the—"
"Shh, shh," she said putting a finger to my lips and following it with a kiss. She hugged me for one last time and whispered in my ear, "Make her happy. She needs to relax."
Jamie walked her out to her car and returned.
"Well, why don't we finish our coffee," she said motioning me back in the living room. I abandoned my chair for the comfort of the couch. We sat at opposite ends.
Well, this was awkward. Mistakenly, I was expecting Jamie to make the first obvious move. Sandra Bullock, Cameron Diaz, Madonna, Geena Davis, and Susan Sarandon all knew what they wanted and weren't shy to reach out and grab it. Cher was different. Immediately, I felt comfortable with her and we talked like old friends. It felt weird with Jamie, maybe because she was nervous, but there was too much of a lag with the conversation. I wasn't feeling any vibes from her that told me what my next move was and I didn't want to insult her to make her feel uncomfortable in her own home. I figured maybe she didn't like me and that this was a bust. I figured that she was thinking how to ask me to leave. Yet, then again, I figured that she would just ask me to leave if that is what she wanted.
She switched from coffee to wine. She offered me a glass, but I declined accepting a second cup of coffee. Incase she decided to ask me to leave, which I felt that she would, I didn't want to be driving after drinking any amount of alcohol while behind the wheel of such a conspicuous car as was the Ferrari. She guzzled the first glass of wine and poured herself a second. We sat and made polite conversation until the wine worked its magic to calm her nerves.
"Cher tells me that you are a special person."
