I told myself it was ridiculous
A silly adolescent or more
I argued the cost
I argued and lost

MGM Stage II…a few days later…

It had been a dance of sorts as both girls tried desperately to avoid any contact; eyes or otherwise. Linda was sad and worried that she had opened herself up; more so than at any other time in her life, only to be rejected. Marnie was convinced that she was as horrible a person as anyone could imagine; the feelings of being ‘wrong’ that her mother had instilled in her that she had tried all along to set aside came back with an almost vengeance. Two unworthy girls looking at each other on the sly, as they say; too painful to see hopes that only materialized the other day being blown away like mist on a windy day. But too painful not to look; drawn carefully along through the storm; protected despite the torrent of self-hate and shame both felt.

“Linda? Can I see you in my dressing room for a minute,” Jean said softly as she walked off the set. Linda of course would do anything for her idol and friend. She followed quickly along, anticipating some new wardrobe change.

“Sure, Miss Hagen,” she yelled after her as Jean entered the dressing room. She followed quickly after and was shocked to see Marnie seated at the vanity, turned around to face the open door. She might as well have been tied to the chair for her posture; looking as if she was a child sitting in the corner as punishment for some unidentified offense. It was an offense, of sorts, but to herself and to Linda as well. Jean walked over to her and spoke; not a whisper, but a quiet word of encouragement.

“You have to tell her, sweetie. I know it looks bad, but believe me; I’ve seen bad, and this isn’t it unless you let it be”

Marnie looked up and over at Linda, who was standing stock still in the doorway. She looked back at Jean, who smiled that welcoming, accepting smile she had given as a gift to Marnie almost from the start.

“I can’t…I just can’t.” Marnie was in tears and would have bolted from the room but for the gentle hand that held her down.

“I know you can. You owe it to yourself to try. There are no rules here; we write the script the way we see things. Trust yourself, honey, okay?” She nodded and turned around, walking to the door where Linda stood.

“That song I sang the other day, ‘Would you?’ What you see others enjoy…would you? It fits here….you have to ask yourself if you dare to be loved, kid. This play has been cast, and you two are the stars, no matter what anyone has ever said to you. I’m going to go over to the sitters and spend some time with Aric; he’s been missing me and I’ve been missing my baby. I’m going to lock this door behind me. Nobody needs to know where you are, so take your time.” She leaned closer and kissed the girl on the cheek before turning back to Marnie. She motioned by clasping her hands together and glancing back and forth between the two girls. She smiled and waved before placing her hand on the door latch. A moment later she was gone.

And now of one thing I am sure
You are my lucky star
I saw you from a far
Two lovely eyes at me, they were gleaming, beaming,
I was star struck

“I’m sorry for being so rude the other day.” Marnie said, facing away, but catching a peek of Linda in the vanity mirror. The girl wasn’t staring at her but neither was she looking away. The impact of the view struck Marnie as hard as any impression she ever had. She felt unworthy still, yes, but something inside of her wanted to be worthy; a first of sorts. She turned around and faced Linda and gazed at her. In the security of the dressing room, locked away from convention and expectations and the demands of others, something felt safe for the first time....for both girls as their gazes locked.

“You….you’re sad for some reason. I’m very sorry.” Marnie knew immediately that Linda wasn’t apologizing, but instead expressing an understanding as much as she could without any explanation; an explanation Marnie determined that Linda deserved, no matter what.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“I don’t know you enough to think about who you are.” Linda shrugged her shoulders in frustration.

“I’m not even what you think I am….. This is…..” Her voice trailed off.

“Jean said you had a secret, but that only you could tell me….that you needed to tell ME.” She patted her chest.

“I’m afraid.” Marnie couldn’t believe she had shared even that little bit of information. And she appeared very afraid to Linda, so it wasn’t a secret at all.

“I’ve never been with a girl before.” Linda stammered; her willingness to open up and be honest almost pushed Marnie away with an example of candor Marnie felt she couldn’t approach.

“I….” It was the most desperate moment in Marnie’s life, no matter what transpired or what decisions she would make from that moment on. She took a breath and sighed, saying,

“I’m not a girl….not a woman….do you understand?” She didn’t cry, but her nostrils flared and her face grew hot with shame. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized she had just condemned herself yet again to a life that merited only pain and sadness. Linda looked down, searching for the words that would answer the girl and even answer herself.

“You’re…” She didn’t finish the question, but the expression on her face, coupled with a growing stare at Marnie’s body spoke for her.

“Yes….” Marnie stammered and burst into tears. Something that she had wanted since she was six became a curse to her. She put her hand to her face; not in drama, but in real helplessness.

“I…I ….” Linda matched the staccato of Marnie’s sobs with her own halting words before continuing.

“I don’t care.” Not the ‘I don’t care’ both girls heard from uncaring mothers and siblings. Not a neglectful damning but instead the ‘I don’t care’ that speaks of ‘no matter what, I don’t mind because you’re too important.’ Linda shook her head, surprised at the words that escaped her lips. Marnie’s eyes grew wide in brand new recognition. She had put her head down, but a very timid and tearful ‘really’ came from her own lips; that too good to be true but dear god I hope it is true ‘really?’

“Yes.” Neither had noticed but they had steadily been inching toward each other when their intents had been just the opposite. Marnie lifted her head enough to notice that the two were nearly face to face. She shook her head once again as Linda tilted her head slightly sideways and stepped closer.

You are my lucky charms
I'm lucky in your arms
You've opened heavens portal
Here on earth for this poor mortal
You are my lucky star…

Sometime later…

A soft knock came at the dressing room door. A moment later the two stood at the doorway and greeted a very content looking Jean Hagen; a woman who was only a few years older than both, she still displayed a smile and a glow in her eyes reserved for proud parents.

“I’m sorry…. They want to reshoot part of the Singing Cavalier scene. Do you think it would be okay if I used my dressing room?” She laughed softly as both girls grew very red in an instant. She put her hands on both girls’ arms and smiled.

“But I can change over in the girl’s room.”

“Nnnno….Miss Hagen….that’s okay,” Marnie said haltingly even as her hand touched her cheek to feel the warmth of embarrassment mixed with relief.

“Well, then, that’s great. You can stay while Linda helps, if you like?” Marnie nodded, speechless. Linda shook her head at the wonder of the moment.

“I…You….You knew….you knew it would be alright.”

“Of course. I looked at the two of you and I knew it would be just fine.” She winked at the two girls and laughed softly before welcoming the two of them into a big, motherly hug.

“Just fine indeed.”

You are my lucky charms
I'm lucky in your arms
You've opened heavens portal
Here on earth for this poor mortal
You are my lucky star…

Singing in the Rain was released in 1952 to great reviews and fair box office success. It helped strengthen the reputation of Gene Kelly, already well regarded as an actor, now as both director and producer, leading to his success with An American In Paris, along with several other musicals.

The movie marked the breakout role for Debbie Reynolds; a lass who more than held her own with two very talented Irishmen; Kelly and Donald O’Conner. She would go onto star in musicals and comedies that were box-office and critical hits as well. O’Conner proved to be a big favorite in television as well as musicals and even a dramatic role or two.

Jean Hagen? As a little kid, we used to watch a show; Make Room for Daddy, which starred Danny Thomas. Jean Hagen played his wife for the first few seasons. A contract dispute led to her character ‘dying’ and being replaced by another actress. But for those few moments when the TV wasn’t turned to the obligatory after-school cartoons, I would sneak looks at Jean and wondered what it would be like to be a nice woman just like her. She was never a big star, and her off-screen life was overshadowed by years of an sadly abusive marriage despite two wonderful kids. She died in 1977 at the age of 54 and until I began to write this story, I had no idea why I wept at the hearing of her passing. Now I know.

Linda and Marnie and Rita are children of mine; their lives portraying them also as children of their times. Roberta Cowell was only one year removed from her own reassignment surgery and most people only heard of Christine Jorgensen late in 1952, months after this story takes place. But in 1952, there were the beginnings of research at UCLA regarding gender dysphoria. Marnie might gain that help she needed, but any physical culmination would have been unlikely, even with the help of friends like Jean and others. But that doesn’t say that she wouldn’t have lived her life as she wished.

It would have been hard, even in a place as ‘progressive’ as Hollywood, for Linda and Marnie to succeed together; women weren’t held in the highest regard, as I’ve shown. And while the gay actor might have been given a pass, any relationship between two women like Linda and Marnie would not have the same support. But they would have moved heaven and earth to be together.

Rita is also a child of her generation; the girl who grew up with the labels and catcalls and utter disrespect who likely sought out someone to love her for real; that desperate search that led to nowhere. And kind gentlemen like Dr. Rosenthal, while rare, still might have given a girl ‘like her’ a chance. And ‘girls like her’ would find a place in the world that included love and acceptance as well.

We’ve come so far since 1952, but in so many ways we have so far to go as well. I’ve done my best to portray the good that can come of life, and I trust that my little tale has provided you with a measure of hope. Thanks for reading.

You Are My Lucky Star
Words and music by
Arthur Freed and
Nacio Herb Brown
As performed by
Miss Debbie Reynolds
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bi1cp7nNKpA