The King Of Hollywood

First let me say that this wasn't written as a tribute to Glen Frey. It was actually written three years ago and has been collecting virtual dust on a thumb drive until I showed it to a couple of dear friends. I want to thank Cute3Kitty for encouraging me to post this, and a huge thanks to blackrandl1958 for not only encouraging me, but her effort to fix my errors, educate me, and make this more readable for all of you.

SH

The King of Hollywood

"

Well he sits up there on his leatherette. Looks at pictures of the ones that he hasn't had yet. When he thinks he wants a closer look. He gets out his little black telephone book. He's calling calling calling..."

The Eagles seemed to know my situation even if I didn't. "The King of Hollywood," a song about a guy who lures girls into sex on the premise of Hollywood stardom. Eight years ago I left my family behind to make it big. It doesn't seem like eight years.

I am going home. Well not exactly home. My husband Guy and our daughters Simone and Chelsea don't live in the same house as they did when I last saw them. As far as that goes they don't even live in the same state, but where ever they are is home to me.

I just can't figure out why they moved and never told me. By now, you are probably wondering about me. My name is Janice Doucette. I am a 43-year-old mother of two.

I lived in a small Louisiana town called Bordeaux. My husband Guy and I grew up together and were sweethearts all through high school. He was the quarterback on the football team, and I was the head cheerleader.

We were the prom king and queen and everyone knew that we'd be together forever. When we graduated, Guy went off to LSU for four years. I spent two years at a junior college in New Orleans. I spent the next two years as a secretary while Guy finished his degree.

When he graduated with his degree in Education, we settled in Baton Rouge for a while. Guy was a student teacher by day and he cooked in a diner by night to build money up for us to eventually get married. I worked odd secretary jobs and between our frugal living and both of us working, we soon had a decent nest egg built up.

Two years after he graduated, Guy proposed to me. Of course, I said yes, and then I set about with our mothers planning our wedding.

Shortly before our wedding, Guy was offered a teaching position by our hometown school. I had hoped that he would have gotten a job in Los Angeles or New York. I'd had enough of small town Louisiana life and Baton Rouge had only whetted my city appetite.

Guy was elated. He felt it was great to have an opportunity to give something back to our community. Our parents were overjoyed as well. Everybody was getting what they wanted. Well, everyone but me.

I almost called our wedding off. I wanted to try to live out my dream of being a Broadway star before I had kids and got fat. Two weeks before the wedding, I walked into the den to break my news to Guy. He was perusing a magazine. I could see a woman's face and figured that I had caught him looking at pornography.

That was my ticket out. I completely detest pornography. I would leave Guy for having the gall to look at it in our house. As I got closer, rehearsing my lines of devastation, I saw he was reading a less than pornographic men's magazine. I still wasn't happy, but when I saw he was reading an article titled "Making Her Wedding Day One She'll Remember" I stopped.

He looked up and smiled at me and my heart melted. I decided that after we got married I would push him to try to get us to New York. Plenty of Broadway actresses are married. Guy would understand.

Three months later, we were married. Guy surprised me when he gave me our honeymoon itinerary at our wedding reception. We were going to spend two full weeks in New York. He had gotten tickets to Cats, and Miss Saigon.

I had a wonderful time and realized more than ever that I wanted to be on that stage. When we got home, I practiced my singing and dancing whenever I could. I bought Broadway soundtracks and learned them all. I just knew I was going to be the next Elaine Paige.

One morning when I woke up I wasn't feeling well. I spent two hours throwing up and then I felt well enough to go to work. This same pattern repeated itself for three days before I decided to call the doctor.

I didn't tell Guy right away because I didn't want to worry him. The doctor gave me an examination and took urine and blood samples. I sat alone in the room for what seemed an eternity with various scenarios playing in my head.

I imagined the doctor coming in and telling me I had some variety of cancer. I didn't imagine it was cancer because God doesn't do that to Broadway stars. My grandmother had died of liver cancer, though. And her last years had been hell. She couldn't eat and she couldn't sleep without the aid of drugs. I remember watching her fade in her last months until one day she was happy and chipper.

We were always prepared for days like. We took a picnic lunch to the state park and enjoyed a day in the sun. Everyone enjoyed the day and when we left her house I thought that she was going to be better.

The next day, my Uncle John called and told us that Grandma had passed. I thought it was cruel to raise our hopes and then take her, but my daddy said that God had given her one last really nice day on earth before calling her home. I didn't fully understand but if daddy said it, it had to be true.

I also imagined my doctor coming in and telling me that it was something I had eaten. That made more sense than cancer because Guy had cooked us shrimp etouffee and jambalaya. He had been in a snit because it was the third night in a row he'd had to cook.

We usually split the chores down the middle, but sometimes if I'd had to work more than five hours for Mr. Duchene, I'd skip chores to practice my singing and dancing. That day, Guy had come home to find I hadn't done anything. I told him that I'd worked from nine to two for Mr. Duchene.

"What did you do from two 'til now?"

"I was practicing."

"Sacrebleu! Practicing? Damn it, Jan, it's one thing to fuck around and make like a star when all of the shit's done that needs done, but it pisses me right the fuck off when your stupid fucking fantasy takes precedence over everything else and I have to pick up the slack. Now I have to cook and clean and grade fucking tests. Thanks a fucking lot!"

I stormed out of the room and locked myself in our bedroom. How dare he call my life's dream a "stupid fucking fantasy?" To show my displeasure in his actions I didn't come out of the bedroom at all until I heard the ten o' clock news on the TV.

I walked down the hall and stopped short of the den. He was sitting at his desk with his back to the TV grading a massive stack of papers. I knew that he'd be there until one in the morning if he had to in order to finish his task.

I went into the kitchen and, it was clean, and immaculate. I opened the refrigerator and found the etouffee and jambalaya in two Tupperware containers. I heated them in the microwave, sat at the table and ate.

When I was done I left the dishes there and went to bed. I figured he could clean up again since he didn't appreciate my talents enough to take on an extra chore now and then. He was still grading papers when I walked back to the bedroom.

The next morning when I was sick, I noticed that Guy had cleaned up the kitchen before he had come to bed. I was nice and didn't make a mess for him, more because I wasn't feeling well than for him.

The only other thing I thought was I might have contracted a virus. Then I thought of an STD. That fucking Guy couldn't keep his pecker in his pants! I bet the son of a bitch was fucking his students. I made him wear condoms to keep from getting pregnant.

He had wanted me to take the pill because the latex sometimes gave him a rash. I vetoed that idea when I heard that some women put on extra weight while on the pill. I knew a fat sow would never make it on Broadway, so I told him that if he wanted sex he'd have to endure a little discomfort.

I figured he had to have given it to me several weeks before. I had been in a really randy mood for three days and we were getting it on at least twice a day. I felt bad for Guy because the condoms were really making him suffer so I allowed him to forego the condom. I quickly did the math in my head and figured I was clear. Little did I know the bastard was going to give me the clap.

"

That son of a bitch did this to me

," I thought as the doctor entered holding my file.

"We ran the tests and we have ruled out cancer," he said. I breathed a sigh of relief. OK, God was off the hook, but Guy was now public enemy number one. "So what do I have, Dr. Brentwood?"

"Well Janice you have a classic case of morning sickness." He paused to let that sink in. "Congratulations, you and Guy are going to be parents."

"

The bastard knocked me up

!" my mind screamed. I couldn't believe it. Guy had just shit all over my dreams. Broadway was no place for a pregnant woman. Dr. Brentwood mistook my tears for tears of joy.

Before I left the office he gave me the name and number of a top rate Ob/Gyn. His nurse called and set up my initial appointment. She congratulated me as she handed me a card with all of the appointment information on it.

I sat in my car and cried for at least half an hour. I knew that Guy would be more than happy to start a family; even if it wasn't planned. I was torn. I could drive to Mississippi and get an abortion. Guy would never know and I could keep Broadway firmly in my sight.

I could also use the child as leverage to make Guy move us to New York. He could stay home and raise the kid while I did my shows. In the end, I decided to have it aborted and never tell Guy. The only problem was getting money for the procedure. Guy would never in a million years pay for it and I knew I couldn't sneak out that much money without him knowing.

I knew my momma and daddy loved me enough to help so I went to their house to talk to them.

"Janice Isabelle Roulon, have you lost your blessed mind?"

My mother was looking at me like I had crawfish crawling out of my ears. I knew she was upset, because she used my maiden name rather than my married name.

"It's Doucette, Momma."

"Not if you continue this idiotic quest of yours it won't be. I can just imagine what your father is going to say."

"You aren't going to tell daddy are you?"

"No," she said looking over her glasses in a disapproving manner. "You are. You're going to stay here until he gets home. Then we'll decide what Guy gets to know."

"Guy doesn't need to know anything," I said in a panic.

"Do you want to end up divorced?" I shook my head. "You will end up that way if you continue to be deceitful, child. If you are intent on murdering Guy's child he has a right to know."

I couldn't believe my own mother would talk to me that way. It wasn't like I wanted to go kill the president. I just wanted my shot at a career before I ruined my body by bearing children.

I sat on the couch and brooded until my father came home. I was sure he'd disown me. He was quite fond of Guy. At times, they were more like buddies than in laws.

My father arrived home and saw me sitting there. "Hi sweet pea. What brings you around today?"

"Tell him," my mother said from the kitchen.

I went on to explain why I had come to see mother. He didn't say a word and took his lunch pail into the kitchen. After several minutes he went out the back door. I knew better than to leave. When daddy is silent the only course of action is to let him get his mind around whatever issue is on his mind; then he'll let you in on his thoughts.

After he did whatever it was that he did outside he came in and got himself a beer. He sat down and looked at a blank spot on the wall. He had a troubled look on his face. Finally after what seemed an eternity he spoke. "Janice. You are my daughter and I love you. I can honestly say that I have never been more disappointed in you than I am right now. Did I really raise such a selfish, deceitful, soul?"

"You don't understand daddy. I need to be a star. I need to be out there on the stage and I can't do that with a kid in tow."

"Ma chère fille, I love you, but truly you have some warped ideas. You have a wonderful life. You have a man who loves you and will do anything for you. I guess he's not enough. You have a family who adore you. You have all of the blessings God can give a girl, but you choose not to see them. You choose to wish your life away, dreaming of something that happens to so few people."

"Have you ever heard the quip; 'How do you summon an actor in Hollyweird or New Yuck'?" I shook my head. "Ya say 'Check please.' There are more actors waiting tables than there are with swimming pools and limousines. Most of them have been practicing their craft since they were kids. What chance does an untrained housewife from small town Louisiana have? Slim and none."

I just sat there as I realized that my daddy was right. As bad as it hurt to realize I would never be on Broadway, it hurt me more to think that my daddy thought less of me. I also knew that Guy would be a wonderful daddy himself and I couldn't deny him his baby.

Momma and Daddy agreed they wouldn't say anything to Guy about what I had planned, as long as I stopped my foolishness and was a model wife. They both hugged me and told me they loved me as I left, and I knew everything was going to be alright.

I went home that evening and made Guy's day. We made love like we were on our honeymoon again; after I assured him that it was okay, and wouldn't hurt the baby. I threw myself into the role of a doting wife and expecting mother.

I kept all of my early appointments with Dr. Herbert and got a clean bill of health. He wanted to see me once a month for the first three months and then he'd decide if more frequent visits would be in order.

Guy pampered me every chance he got. He was every bit the proud, expecting, papa. He started making plans for changing our spare bedroom into a nursery. We were both picking names. It was nothing to be sitting in total silence and one to pipe up with "Christine Michele?" or "David Alan?" Sometimes at the height of our glory, fate has a way of rearing its ugly head.

It was just after the Fourth of July. Guy had taken a position teaching summer classes at the junior college just up the road. He had been astonished to have been asked to teach college level courses when he'd only been teaching a couple of years. It turned out that many of the regular professors had chosen to have their summer off. It was only three days a week so Guy didn't mind at all.

I was about four months along at the time. I woke up feeling queasy. I had grown used to not feeling well on some days. I was lightly cleaning the house before I went to work.

Suddenly the cramps struck me. The first few were annoying but tolerable. Then they were so bad they doubled me over. I made it to the bathroom and sat on the commode before another series of cramps hit. I had the incredible urge to pee.

I tried to pee as another set of vicious cramps struck me. I almost passed out. I peed and stood up on shaky legs. I was horrified to see that the commode was full of blood. I got to my phone and called my mom before I passed out.

I woke up in a hospital bed. Dr. Hebert was running an ultra sound machine and looking concerned. I could hear my mother off in the distance talking to someone. "Just relax," Dr. Herbert told me. He said something to the nurse and she scurried out of the room. I closed my eyes and another set of cramps hit me.

When I opened my eyes, Guy was standing by my bed. He had tears running down his face. I could hear my mom talking in hushed tones but I couldn't see her.

"Momma, she's awake," Guy said. I heard the room door open and I looked at Guy. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, baby."

"Hey. Shh. You had to work. I feel much better now. How is the baby?"

Guy got a stricken look, but as he was about to say something mom and Dr. Herbert came into the room. Dr. Herbert asked how if I was in any pain, I told him I wasn't.

Then he explained the situation and I was devastated. He told me that the cramping had caused a miscarriage. They didn't know why it happened. He had me scheduled for a DNC in the morning. I started crying and Guy held me. The doctor said he'd be back to check on me and left the room.

Guy held me until the nurses told him it was time to leave. Dr. Herbert did the procedure early the next morning. Guy was by my side as long as he could be and was waiting when I got out. They kept me in the hospital for another day before sending me home.

When I got home Guy made me as comfortable as possible. Before long I noticed that the house was immaculate. I knew that as bloody as I had been when they bathed me at the hospital there had to be a mess in the house.

I later found out that my mom had helped Guy clean up the mess when the nurses sent him home. I knew then that the man I had married was a godsend. He had taken the week off to spend with me.

Over the next few weeks, I saw Dr. Herbert twice. I was also seeing a therapist. She really helped me cope with the grief. No one helped Guy to cope. He tried to keep it hidden from me but when he thought I was asleep, I could hear him cry.

Finally, I talked to my counselor and she said she'd speak to Guy and maybe help him a little, and she told me how I could help him. I tricked Guy into coming to my next appointment with her and she asked him to come into the session.

She spent that entire session convincing Guy that he wasn't alone and that he could express his feelings to me. "She's not fragile, Guy," she told him. "She is dealing with her grief admirably, and the only way you'll heal as a couple is to share your feelings."

After that day, Guy and I improved in every way. I even found the courage to tell him about my abortion plan when I found out I was pregnant. He was a little stung but he forgave me and we moved on.

Two weeks later, I had a clean bill of health from Dr. Herbert. "Am I going to be able to have children?" I asked him.

"Janice, what happened to you was a freak occurrence. Many women go on to have healthy children after a miscarriage."

"How long should Guy and I wait to start trying again?"

"Wait at least until you are out of my office," he said with a grin. "There's no need to wait. I will caution you to get back to me as soon as you know you're pregnant. I will want to monitor things a little closer. Also, some of the scarring from the DNC might make it a little difficult to get pregnant. Not impossible, I just don't want you to get discouraged if it doesn't happen right away."

I went home, cooked Guy's favorite meal and made him his favorite cherry cheesecake. I changed the sheets on the bed and threw the condoms away. After several weeks without Guy inside me, I was dying to feel him. I hoped that he made me pregnant that very night.

I took a long steamy bath and made sure I got everything clean. I spent an hour doing my make-up and hair. I picked out the negligee I had worn on our wedding night along with some stockings and a pair of four-inch heels.

I was in the kitchen when he came home. I yelled for him to go upstairs and take a shower because I almost had dinner ready. When I heard the shower start, I set the table. Twenty minutes later he came down and sat at the table. I took the roast out to the table on a platter wearing only my negligee, stockings and heels."

"Someone got a clean bill of health from her doctor today," he said with a smile.

I nodded. "And she has missed you. After dinner I'll show you how much."