I nodded and smiled, taking his hand as I exited the vehicle. I was wearing one of the most glamourous gowns I owned. Long and sleek, it was made of thousands of gold sequins, and it shimmered in the lights. A fur stole was draped over my shoulders.
“You look lovely tonight,” Spencer said as he leaned in to kiss my cheek.
He stayed there for a moment longer than necessary, and I pressed into him, knowing that tonight we would say good-bye.
When I pulled back, I said, “Thank you.”
His eyes conveyed a thousand apologies, and I knew it would have to be enough.
The crowd erupted with applause as the announcer said, “Andhere is Miss Ally Bennett, the star ofLittle Women, who will steal your hearts with her performance of our beloved Jo March.FilmDailyandThe Los Angeles Timesare saying her performance has all but guaranteed an Academy Award for Best Actress next year.”
My cheeks flamed with embarrassment and gratefulness as I listened to the announcer. It was so hard to comprehend that this was my last movie premiere—my last day—in 1929.
Yet, I was ready. More than ready.
Cameras took pictures or captured movie reels as we walked across the red carpet. Spencer and I stopped several times to pose and talk to reporters.
“Miss Bennett,” a reporter hailed me, “my name is Morduant Hall. I’m a film critic forThe New York Times. May I have a word with you?”
“Of course.” I leaned in to hear him, since the noise from the crowd was deafening.
“This film is achieving unprecedented acclaim,” he said, “and several people are saying it will become a classic, just like the book.”
I smiled as I met Papa’s gaze. He had joined us as Mr. Hall spoke to me.
“What does it feel like to know that your name and performance will go down in film history as one of the classics?”
Mama, Papa, and Spencer waited as I thought about Mr. Hall’s question.
“All of us have the opportunity to make history,” I said. “We often get to choose what kind of a legacy we leave behind. More than films, I want to be remembered as someone who lived my life to the fullest and used the gifts God gave me to leave the world a little bit better than I found it. That’s all we can really do. If that means I’ve created a classic, then I’m very glad. But that wasn’t my aim.”
“How very charming,” Mr. Hall said. He then turned to Papa. “May I ask you a few questions about the film, Mr. Bennett?”
Papa nodded as Spencer took my arm and led me into the theater.
It was quieter inside, since the fans wouldn’t be allowed into the building until we were seated. I started to move toward the screen room, but Spencer stopped me.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
I nodded and followed him to a corner of the lobby where we could have a little more privacy.
“I need you to know something, Ally.” He faced me with no pretenses. “I’ve hurt a lot of people, and I’ve spent a lot of time regretting the choices I’ve made because of it. But until now, I haven’t cared very much about what other people thought of me or those choices.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I remained silent.
“I care deeply about what you think of me,” he said. “And what your family thinks of me.” He glanced over my shoulder, and I turned my head to see what he was looking at.
Vicky had just entered the theater.
“I hope you can forgive me for taking you to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel that night,” he continued, drawing my attention back to him. “I was only thinking of myself in that moment and how much I wanted to be done with my assignment.” He took a deep breath. “I never contemplated how much I would hurt you or how much I would regret losing you. Will you forgive me?”
I’d already forgiven Spencer, but he needed to hear it. “Of course I forgive you.”
Relief made his shoulders sag. Then he smiled, and his charming eyes filled with that teasing twinkle I’d come to know. “Thank you, Ally. That means so much to me.” He glanced over my shoulder again, apprehension tightening the lines around his mouth for a second. “There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Vicky?”
He met my gaze, a question in their depths.
