Dress Rehearsal on Sunday afternoon went smoothly, although we discovered the producers had cut one of our numbers. Instead of doing two songs in the second half-hour of the program, we were now asked to just do the one finale, “Do I Love (Indeed I Do).” Some young comic named Richard Pryor was added to the guest list at the last minute. Apparently, Ed himself really wanted him on the show. In fact, his comedy bit would include Ed as a straight man. Since Pryor’s plane flight wouldn’t arrive in New York until 6PM, he and Ed would just have to do their bit without any rehearsal.

Otherwise, Bobby and I spent the hours before we went on the air live at 8PM just walking around midtown. I was as excited I had ever been in my short life so far, growing up in the bosom of suburbia. Singing with a chart-topping musical act on a nationally televised, even legendary program would be the highlight of most performers’ careers”. Here I was, doing that in my first month in the music business, just a mere girl of 17. I giggled, to myself I thought.

“What’s so funny?” Bobby asked as we both looked over the railing at the ice-less rink of Rockefeller Center.

“Just thinking how incredible this all is. Three weeks ago, I was a junior in high school. Tonight, I’m going to sing on national television. Me, a 17-year-old girl from Bergenfield, New Jersey!”

“Yeah, well, incredible isn’t the only word for it. Can I ask you a question about Friday night?”

“What? You were so drunk Billy and I had to almost carry you up three flights to Larry’s apartment…”

“No, I mean, afterwards. Did you and Billy go back to his place?”

“We went straight to Connie’s place. Like five minutes later. Why?”

“I think Billy really likes you. And…and maybe you’re starting to really like him too.”

“Well, he’s been really nice to me. And he is my boss, basically.” Bobby slipped his hand into mine and gave me a puppy dog look with his limpid brown eyes searching my face for signs of deception.

“We’ve been best friends since we were in first grade—”

“I was in kindergarten. You’re a year older than me—”

“Whatever. You’ve known Billy for—what? –a week? He’s a grown man. He’s got a wife or something somewhere. Maybe even a kid…or two—”

“Slow down, Bobby. You’re getting silly thoughts about me and Billy. Nothing’s going on, okay? Although, he’s a really good kisser—”

“You kissed him?!!!” The Sunday crowd of rubberneckers in Rockefeller Center turned towards us. Bobby was really loud.

“On the cheek. To thank him for the cab ride home. And…and he did kiss me on the cheek. Just a friendly…boss-like peck. It’s nothing, Bobby. Don’t make a scene here. Everyone’s looking at us.” Bobby turned away from me, staring across the rink, his face sullen, his lips in a tight frown. “Don’t be such a child. Let’s talk about something else. It’s too bad they wouldn’t give us tickets for our moms. I know my mother would’ve been stoked to see me, I mean both of us, on the show. I guess my mom will just go over to your house and watch it on your color TV. Our dads couldn’t be bothered. They went bear-hunting again. You’d think they’d want to see their children on TV.”

“Unlike Billy, my dad thinks you’re a boy. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t see the show.”

“I hope Mom didn’t spill the beans to your mother about me. That would be a real problem. She might forbid you to ever see me again.”

“I didn’t know you cared at this point, Shuggie.” I punched his shoulder in reply.

“It’s getting late. Let’s find a place to eat something light before we head back to the theater.” I took Bobby’s hand and dragged him away from the railing.

We were slated to perform first. As Ed Sullivan read his introductory monologue off the teleprompter in his usual wooden monotone, the band took their places on stage off-camera. Bobby looked so handsome in his tuxedo jacket. I lined myself up with the other Honeys and looked into the audience, but the lights were too blinding to make out individual faces in the dark expanse of the theater. Finally, Ed introduced us: “And now, making their first appearance on this show, performing their current Top 10 hit, “Heaven Must Have Sent You,” Hank & Honey Hutch with Hank’s Honeys!”

While the rest of the band just had to mime their parts convincingly, Honey and The Honeys had to actually sing into live microphones. It was an adrenaline rush to do our well-practiced gestures and dance steps for an audience of 700 people and the television cameras. We were flawless. The thunderous sound of 700 pairs of hands clapping was gratifying as we took our bows. As was scripted, Ed called Hank, Honey, and The Honeys over to him and we smiled for the camera as he shouted above the applause, “Hank and Honey Hutch with The Honeys! Give them a big hand. Just wonderful. They’ll be back to sing another song for us later in the show.”

The rest of the band sought the refuge of their dressing rooms but I convinced Bobby to watch the show with me from the wings of the stage, making sure we weren’t in anyone’s way. The next act was The Berosino Chimps, six monkeys who did all sorts of acrobatics on a trampoline and modified gymnastics rig dressed in Native American outfits. I always wondered if trained animals really enjoyed performing or were just captive automatons. They were cute though.

The audience ate it up and they went off to a nice ovation. As they passed by Bobby and me offstage, one of the chimps jumped into my arms. Surprised, I just held him, looking around for someone to take him off my hands. Viola, who had just walked out of the dressing room to light up a cigarette, was amused. “The chimp recognized your maternal instinct right off, Shuggie. How many kids you and Bobby gonna have?” she teased. Just then, one of the Berosinos rescued me. As he carried the chimp off, he winked at me and said, ”Dondi is always looking for a mommy since we lost her mother. Maybe if the singing doesn’t work out…”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Bobby was about to make a wisecrack when Ed Sullivan introduced the next act, Stiller & Meara, a husband-and-wife comedy duo who did little clever skits, mostly on the incongruity of their relationship: a tall, red-headed Irish Catholic woman married to a short, dark-haired Jew. Tonight, they riffed on the relatively new phenomenon of computer dating.

“It must be difficult for people from different cultures or religions to have a successful relationship.”

“People of different genders seem to do alright” Bobby remarked. I glared at him.

Once again, Ed Sullivan interrupted our repartee. The stage darkened as they wheeled a chest-high platform into central view. I love Topo Gigio! He’s so cute. From our vantage point in the wings, I could see Maria Perego and an assistant puppeteer seated on low stools behind the platform, unseen by the audience or the camera. On top of the platform was a miniature bed, small enough for a puppet-sized mouse. Ed came into view and the skit began.

Bobby decided to go back into the guys’ dressing room but I wanted to watch Petula Clark, the next performer, from the wings instead of on a tiny monitor. She was so gracious earlier in the day when I asked her for an autograph. Taking my pen, she confided that the grapevine says I was Billy Schechter’s newest discovery. I blushed and just thanked her for signing my call sheet.

Petula was scheduled to sing two songs in her segment. The first required a bit of production. Dancers and several new model sporty cars surrounded her in a colorful mod outfit as she rode in on the hood of a Jaguar singing “Sign of the Times.” They took advantage of a commercial break to clear the stage and allow Petula to make a costume change. When she re-emerged after the break, she was alone on stage, singing “Who Am I.”

The buildings reach up to the sky
The traffic thunders on the busy street
Pavement slips beneath my feet
I walk alone and wonder who am I?
I close my eyes and I can fly
And I escape from all this worldly strife
Restricted by routine of life
But still, I can't discover who am I?

Good question. Who am I? My father wants me to be his only son. Bobby wants me to be his best buddy. Billy wants me to be his ‘next discovery.’ But I just want to be me – a girl. Can I be? My musing was interrupted by Bobby’s tap on my shoulder.

“Shuggie, they want you in makeup. There’s just one more segment before we do our final number. Hurry!” We both walked quickly backstage, Bobby to his dressing room, me to the makeup room.

I sat with the other Honeys as the makeup staff worked their wonders on us. On the small monitor above the bank of mirrors, we watched as Richard Pryor and Ed Sullivan performed their unrehearsed comedy routine.

Ed Sullivan looked into the camera and seemed actually delighted to announce we had returned to perform in the final segment of tonight’s show. This was an important moment for the group for we were giving the national audience an advance listen to our forthcoming single. A song that would end every one of our concerts, hopefully keeping it front of mind when the single was released in September. The red lights of the TV cameras came on and we began to sing “Do I Love You (Indeed I Do).” Hank and Honey traded verses and the band was great on the pre-recorded track. The brass section, including Bobby, even added some synchronized dance steps in the background. The audience gave us an overwhelming ovation. As we bowed, Ed Sullivan quickly wrapped up the show and bade farewell to the teeming millions out in TV land. We were a smash! I could imagine Billy swelling with pride at our achievement on the great Ed Sullivan Show. But I hadn’t seen Billy since an hour before the show started. Where was he?

Bobby was standing outside of the ladies’ dressing room when I emerged, dressed in my civilian outfit, a bouncy floral print frock and low heel sandals.

“You’re the last one here. Everyone’s gone to Sardi’s for the after-party.”

“I’m sorry. I waited until all the other girls finished getting their makeup sorted out. Anyway, I knew you’d wait for me.”

“You know that, do you?” I was about to remark on his sarcasm when Mom and Connie appeared as if out of thin air, followed by Bobby’s mom Gloria and Billy Schechter. Mom rushed over to me and hugged me fiercely, almost sobbing.

“Sweetie, you look so beautiful and you were the best singer on stage! I’m so proud of you.”

“Mom, you guys were in the audience?”

“Oh, Shuggie, you didn’t know Mr. Schechter got us seats? Connie, Gloria, and me? He even sent a car to pick us up. He’s such a nice young man!”

“I didn’t want you two to be nervous, knowing your mothers were in the audience,” Billy interjected. Bobby and I exchanged looks as it fully dawned on us that Bobby’s mother Gloria must know.

“Mrs. Messina. I don’t know what to say. All these years—”

“Oh, you looked beautiful in that gown on stage. And what a voice! I’m so glad you finally decided to dress like a girl instead of a tomboy. Bobby even tried to convince me you were really a boy. But I knew better. I remember when you and Connie would parade around like little catalog models in your pink shorts and sailor shirts. Then you started wearing boys’ clothes. Such a cute girl dressing like that. They even thought you were a boy in school!”

“Good thing she was in band. Got her out of gym class,” my sister glibly added. My mother just shrugged her shoulders.

“You know, Harry, Bobby’s dad, would urge your dad to just let you be you. But he wouldn’t listen to reason. It’s a sickness. Sorry, Eriko, but Jerry should be ashamed of forcing his daughter to be raised as his son. That’s child abuse. I’m so glad you and Bobby are together now. I’m looking forward to grandchildren!” She hugged me. I was in shock. All these years! They thought I was a girl. But, of course, I am a girl! Bobby’s mouth hung open. Connie was patting him on the back, a devilish grin on her face.

“But, Mom, Shuggie’s only 17. We’re getting way, way ahead of ourselves here. She’s not even—” Connie covered his mouth as Bobby’s mom took me aside. She slipped what looked like birth control pill dispensers in my purse.

“Here, they’re mine. I’m not using them right now.” She giggled. “Harry and I are trying for another baby. You know, before the change of life. It’ll satisfy my maternal needs until you and Bobby start a family.” She winked at me, and we rejoined the group as Billy waved to us to hurry up and follow.

“What did my mom have to say? She was giggling,” Bobby asked. I just shook my head and locked arms with him. Billy had a cab waiting to take us to Sardi’s. We could’ve walked. It was only 10 blocks away. And frankly I needed some fresh air after that scene.

We boarded a plane for Los Angeles Monday morning. The tour would start in San Francisco on Saturday, July 2nd. Actually, the venue was the San Jose Civic Auditorium, an hour’s drive south of San Francisco. Meanwhile, Billy had a tight schedule set up for the 5 days before that concert. While in Los Angeles, we had a day of recording studio time reserved at Billy’s favorite place, Sunset Sound. Billy told me he had a song for me to sing lead vocal on—something I’m sure won’t go down well with Honey. Also, we were making lip-sync appearances on two Dick Clark vehicles: American Bandstand and Where the Action Is.

With Bobby sitting next to me (I gave him the window seat – he’s such a child), I closed my eyes. I hadn’t slept much after Sunday night’s excitement and revelations from Bobby’s mom. I felt I could use the five-hour flight to catch up on my beauty sleep. As I drifted off, I could hear one of my favorite songs from Bobby’s record collection spinning on the turntable of my mind: Aretha Franklin’s version of the Billie Holiday classic, “God Bless the Child.”