Michael's Secrets (26 page)

“You’re right. I’m worried because this is a happy relationship, and I don’t know how to handle a happy relationship,” he said. “But the good thing is I think this is a first for him, too.”

Dr. Mikowsky sat back and smiled. “And, Michael, I think that given time, you may actually fall in love with Sam, but you need to let go of your insecurities and allow yourself to be happy.”

Michael left Dr. Mikowsky’s office feeling better than when he arrived.

He and Sam saw each other just about every night for the next few weeks, until Sam had to fly to Montana for a three-month shoot. His career was really taking off, and Michael could not have been happier for him.

He managed to get to Montana for one weekend while Sam was there, and Sam was so excited to see him, showing Michael all over the small town where they were filming. When Michael prepared to leave, Sam grabbed him and hugged him tightly. “Michael, I like you so much,” Sam said as he started to cry. “I wish you could stay here and be with me all the time.”

Michael didn’t know how to react. He also knew that he liked Sam more than any man he ever knew. “Sam, you are so special to me, you know that,” Michael said. “I do like you, and I want to make this work, but I need you to be patient with me as this is so new to me, being with someone who cares for me as much as I care for him.”

Sam kissed Michael deeply, and when they parted lips, he said, “I know. I’m the same way, always falling for guys who are wrong for me, but when I met you, I knew you were different, and I knew I wanted you in my life.”

“Now, I have a plane to catch, and I’m going to miss you like you will not believe,” Michael said.

Sam returned from Montana in November, and they continued dating until he left for Toronto in December. Michael did not envy his going to Canada in the middle of winter, and Sam was supposed to be there for three months, possibly four. Michael visited him a couple of times, but as he hated winter weather, he was whiny the entire time, and Sam actually found that endearing and kidded Michael constantly about it, which made Michael whine even more and had them laughing all the time. They talked about where their relationship was headed, and they grew closer with each visit, and just hearing Sam’s voice made Michael so happy. Although he hated the cold, Michael hated leaving Sam even more.

Michael was driving down Pico one morning in late December after returning from Toronto, and he spotted Anna’s Italian Restaurant where he worked upon arriving in California in 1985, and where he and Sam had their first meal together. He then spotted something he hadn’t noticed before. There was a Cadillac dealership on the next block. Michael kept driving then he suddenly made a U-turn at the next light, doubled back and pulled into the lot of Charles Smith Cadillac. A short, young, blond salesman with a tight build came out as Michael exited his car, and the salesman extended his hand to shake Michael’s.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” he said. “This is a beauty … ‘66?”

“No, it’s a ‘65 Corvair 500 with a three speed manual,” Michael said as he closed the driver’s side door.

“Hi, I’m Paul Tripp, are you looking to trade it in?” the salesman asked.

Michael looked at his gold metallic Corvair. His mother’s was red, but the exact same model with the same engine and transmission. Michael once thought about trading it in, but he had other plans for it now.

“No, I’m going to keep her,” he said as he patted the roof. “I want to look at a Cadillac Deville or Fleetwood.”

“Oh Cadillac doesn’t make those anymore, however, we have the DTS, which I think you would like,” Paul said as he led Michael into the showroom.

These were not the big land yachts Michael remembered, and he was a little disappointed that they no longer made the Deville, but he saw a white Cadillac DTS with a cashmere colored interior, as the sticker said, although it looked like tan to Michael, that peaked his interest, so he walked over to it, taking in the car’s exterior design. The salesman opened the driver’s side door for Michael to sit behind the wheel.

“What do you think?” Paul asked as Michael made himself comfortable.

“I like it,” Michael said as he stroked the steering wheel and scanned the dash. “How much?”

“Well, this one has the premium luxury package,” Paul said as he pointed to the leather seats and other features.

“How much?” Michael asked again as he stroked the dash.

“Well, sir, we have financing available,” Paul continued.

“Paul, are you going to tell me how much this car costs?” Michael asked while looking directly at him.

“Well with the dealer incentives, it is $44,700,” he said almost apologetically.

“Will you take a check?” Michael asked as he stepped out of the car.

“Excuse me?” Paul questioned as he closed the car door behind Michael.

“I said, Paul, ‘Will you take a check?’” he asked with a smile as he turned to face Paul.

“Uh, sure,” Paul said, clearing his throat. “Come with me to my office.”

Michael sat down in Paul’s office and wrote him a check for the Cadillac DTS. Paul looked at the name on the check, and his eyes lit up. Michael then gave Paul his card and asked that they deliver the car to his house as he would be driving his Corvair home. Paul’s hands were shaking as he filled out the paperwork since he had just started working at the dealership a few weeks prior, and this was the first time he sold a car in only fifteen minutes – and for cash.

“Mr. Bern, do you always do things so quickly?” Paul asked as he had Michael sign the bill of sale.

“Frankly, Paul,” he said, “I usually over-think everything. But, today I wanted a Cadillac, and when I saw your dealership, I decided I better do this now before I change my mind.”

Paul gave him a copy of the receipt. “Mr. Bern, if you’re ever in the market for another Cadillac, please give me a call.”

“Thank you, Paul, but the last time I made a decision this impulsively was December 1985, twenty-one years ago, so I hope you’re still selling cars in 2027,” Michael said with a wink as he went outside and sat down behind the wheel of his Corvair. He patted the dash and said, “Don’t worry, girl, you’ll always be my baby.”

Paul waved to Michael, and when he re-entered the showroom, his boss rushed over to him with an angry look on his face.

“Tripp, if you let one more customer go that quickly …” Paul’s boss began.

“He bought a car,” Paul said, as he watched Michael back out of his parking space.

“What?” his boss asked with incredulity.

“He paid cash. He saw the car he wanted, asked how much, wrote a check and asked us to deliver it to his house this afternoon,” Paul said as he watched Michael pull up to Pico, waiting for a break in traffic.

“What? You took a check from some guy who drives an old Chevy. Did you run it through the VeriCheck machine?” his boss asked, still not believing his youngest salesman.

Paul watched as Michael pulled onto Pico and drove off, then he turned to his boss and said, “The check cleared, and that’s not some old Chevy. That is a 1965 Corvair 500 … Oh, and Mr. Gasthalter, the gentleman who just paid cash for that Cadillac was none other than Michael Bern.”

“Who the hell is Michael Bern?”

“There’s a copy of
Variety
in Pam’s office. Check out Page Three,” Paul began as he walked toward his office, leaving his boss in the middle of the showroom, then yelled over his shoulder, “Michael Bern is only the hottest screenwriter in town, but if you want me to return his check and cancel the sale …”

“Oh, that Michael Bern,” Mr. Gasthalter said as he walked to his own office. “Good work, Tripp.”

“Thank you, sir,” Paul said as he smiled and arranged to have the hottest screenwriter in Hollywood’s car delivered that afternoon.

The Cadillac was delivered on time, and Michael took it out for a long drive, enjoying the feel of a luxury car he could call his own again. When he arrived back home, he parked the Corvair in the garage and left the Cadillac in the driveway, so Helen Epstein would have a reason to call Sid.

For once, Michael enjoyed treating himself well.

Chapter Thirteen

In January 2007, they announced the Oscar nominations, and
Birthright
was nominated for four Academy Awards – Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress and Best Original Screenplay. When Michael called Sam to tell him, he had just heard it on the news and dialed Michael simultaneously. It was so good to have someone who was so happy for him and aware of what he was doing in his life as Michael was about his. Things were starting to look good elsewhere in his career as HTO picked up the pilot, and filming would begin in spring 2007. As promised, they also made Michael executive producer. Michael also decided to write most of the episodes himself, with Sharon pitching in when she had time. Michael wanted as much control as possible. Peggy and Mark wanted Sam to play one of the leads, but Sam said if he and Michael worked together it would ruin everything and remind them of Lucy and Desi and Sonny and Cher, but then Michael reminded him of Steve and Eydie.

Michael respected Sam’s wishes when he promised to do a guest spot or two, and he visited Sam a few more times in Toronto, whining as usual about the weather and endearing himself to Sam and vice versa along the way.

The night of the Oscars, Michael debated whether to order a limo or just drive himself in his Cadillac, but Sid said that as a nominee, he should treat himself. Sam tried to fly in for the telecast, but filming had run over schedule by another month, and he was so upset he could not be there for Michael that he cried over the phone. Michael, although a little disappointed, told him it was OK.

As Michael dressed for the telecast, there was a knock on the door. He finished tying his tie and walked to the front door and peaked through the window. He smiled as he saw who it was and swung the door open. Sam came in carrying a suitcase and a garment bag, dropped them both and hugged and kissed Michael, who started to tear up.

“I thought you couldn’t make it,” Michael said as they parted lips, realizing it had been over three months since Sam had been home.

“I pulled some strings, and I borrowed a tux from wardrobe,” Sam said as he pointed to the garment bag. “I thought my plane would be late. How much time do I have?”

Michael was already dressed and told him he had about fifteen minutes. Sam ran into the bathroom, stripped, and jumped into the shower. He yelled from the shower, “When did you buy a Cadillac?”

“In December,” Michael said as he stood at the bathroom door.

“It’s about time you treated yourself,” Sam said as he finished showering, stepped out and dried himself off. “Did you sell the Corvair?”

“No, it’s in the garage,” he answered as he stepped aside, so Sam could exit the bathroom and change.

“I just thought of something,” Sam said, as he put on the tux that although was not a perfect fit, looked fabulous on him anyway. “Do you have a date for tonight?”

Michael looked at him as if he just asked if he was pregnant and said, “Yeah, I’m going with this hot actor, who really knows how to treat a man.”

Sam looked down, and Michael realized he believed him. “Jeez, Sam, did you leave your sense of humor in Toronto? I don’t have a date. I didn’t even give away my other ticket. I wouldn’t go with any man but you, silly boy.”

Sam grinned from ear to ear and blushed with embarrassment. Right then, the chauffeur pulled up in the limousine and beeped his horn. He opened the door, and as Sam stepped out, Michael slapped his behind. He was flying on Cloud Nine, knowing Sam would be there with him. Michael then directed the limo driver to go to the Beverly Hilton as they had two more people to pick up.

“Who else is going with us?” Sam asked.

“Two people I have wanted you to meet for a long time,” Michael said and left it at that.

They pulled up in front of the Beverly Hilton, and Michael stepped out of the limousine with Sam following. He walked up to his other two guests, who were already standing outside waiting.

Dressed in a peach sequined gown, with diamonds dripping from her ears, neck and fingers, Doreen could not have looked happier. And, dressed in an orange sequined dress, with a low v-neck, and wearing her amber jewelry and smiling literally from ear to ear with her wide mouth and large teeth, Rona was equally as excited.

“Aunt Rona, Aunt Doreen, there has been a slight change in plans,” Michael said. “I can’t be your dates for tonight as this wonderful man just flew in from Toronto to be at my side.” Michael motioned for Sam to come closer. As he walked up, both of them smiled with approval.

“Sam Jacobs, I want you to meet two very special people,” Michael said as Sam went to shake their hands, “Aunt Doreen and Aunt Rona.”

“What is this shaking of hands?” Rona asked as she grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. “And, such a handsome young man.”

“And a nice Jewish boy,” Doreen said as she grabbed him for a kiss. “Michael thinks the world of you. He has talked about you the whole time we’ve been here.”

Sam looked over at Michael with a pleasantly surprised look on his face and said, “You talk about me?”

“A little,” Michael said sarcastically with a smile. “Listen, Aunt Rona, Aunt Doreen, Sam is my date, so you two have to be each other’s dates tonight. You make a nice couple anyway.”

“Come on, Honey,” Doreen said as she put her arm in Rona’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rona said, “and if anyone asks, I’m the top.”

They all looked at Rona and laughed. Then they stepped into the limo and headed for the Oscars.

As they alighted from the limousine, photographers immediately started taking their pictures as Sam and Michael walked up the red carpet holding hands. Sam was so comfortable with himself, and for the first time in a long while, Michael smiled for the photographers as they said, “Look over here,” and he was getting dizzy from spinning in this direction and that direction. They were the only couple entering the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion without an entourage of PR people and the like, except for Doreen and Rona, who were close behind them. Michael spotted Joan Rogers’ booth and whispered in Sam’s ear, “Let’s see if she’ll talk to us.”