Nest Steps

Let's fast forward eighteen months. It is now July 1973. My 24th birthday. Jake and I have been seeing each other - mostly exclusively - since that first date. I say mostly because ever four months or so I would think "what am I doing" and say goodbye for a couple of weeks. Jake didn't like to be alone, so relatively quickly I'd hear of a "sighting" of him with somebody else and decide I certainly couldn't survive without him.

I was still working at KNBC. The Sales Department was becoming pretty dull by this time. I could type proposals and magnify expense accounts in my sleep. One of the great things about NBC were the job postings on bulletin boards all around the place. I'd stop from time to time and check it out.

One day, much to my surprise, I saw a posting for The Tonight Show. The real one with Johnny Carson. They had moved to Burbank from New York the year before and the commercial production assistant was moving on. I couldn't apply for that job fast enough. I was far from the only applicant, but as a former New Yorker I think I had the inside track. Most of the staff had come out from New York the year before. Several of the Talent Coordinators were attending AA meetings during lunch time - big difference between walking the streets of NY after hoisting a few during the taping and hopping on the 405 in a car you weren't used to driving. I loved the small building - "bungalow", they called it at the end of the studios that held the show offices. All except Mr. Carsons'. He was a very shy man and preferred to be behind locked glass doors at the top of the studio.

After two interviews I was told the job was mine. What was a commercial production assistant, anyway? More to be revealed. But, my working on the show made page three of the Locust Valley Leader. I had arrived. I was going to start the new job in a week.

Jake and I were spending most of our time together at my place. I'd left Lakeside and was living in the guest house on the estate of an old time movie producer in Toluca Lake. The house was right next door to where Bing Crosby lived many years ago. This house belonged to Sidney Salkow, who produced the original Lolita. The guest cottage didn't have a real kitchen - a hot plate and toaster oven with the sink in the bathroom - but that was ok because there was a pretty cool expense account at Jake's agency. He still lived on the boat, too. The divorce had not been smooth. His "ex" wanted to keep the house - easier on the kids. Harder on Jake's wallet.

Don't get me wrong. I really liked his kids...a lot. They spent every other weekend with him - he'd rent a hotel room and I'd visit, always leaving before bed time. The eldest boy thought I was special. A pre-teen's dream. The ex-wife - not so much. I've always maintained that if two women love the same man they'd probably like one another - if the man in question wasn't in the picture. But, obviously, this was not the case. Laura hadn't met anyone and wasn't so thrilled that Jake had. Especially that this someone was fourteen years younger. She was civil but we kept our distance.

On my 24th birthday Jake took me to a very special dinner. In Las Vegas. So big a surprise that my best friend and her husband came along, too. We met them at the airport and spent the night enjoying ourselves. I didn't win at roulette but around 1AM, Jake looked at me and said "let's get married".

Before I could seriously sift through the haze of champagne cocktails I heard myself agree.

And, so that's how I wound up at the Little Chapel in the West.