This is Chapter 2 of Billy & Joan. This chapter is fast forwarding from episode one to episode 7 of the show, during the making of the almost reteaming of Bette and Joan in the horror classic "Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte" until (SPOILER ALERT) Joan was replaced by Bette's longtime friend Olivia de Havilland, after Joan held up production with a "mystery illness". This chapter takes place before Joan is fired, and in a hospital room. Some minor changes, in real life Joan ditched her black hair that was used for "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" and return her auburnish (?) locks, although she still wore her crocheted hair extensions; so I'm changing her hair color in the story as well. Billy and Jimmie catch wind of the publicity, hear that Joan is in the hospital, fearing the worst and rush to her aide, only to be relieved and slightly peeved that Joan is not sick and faking to demonstrate one thing both Bette Davis and Bob Aldrich forgot, do not fuck with Joan Crawford... Another minor change, I changed the Oscar night fiasco of 1963, with Joan and columnist Hedda Hopper "sabotaging" Bette's "win for Baby Jane, given the fact that Joan had no control of the Motion Picture Academy, if she did, she could have gotten herself another nomination or a second win from her other 2 nominations in the past.
1964
Billy and Jimmie anxiously walk down the hallway of Cedar-Sinai Hospital, looking for Joan's room. Jimmie was carrying a casserole dish, Billy- a jar of pickles in a paper bag. Billy is dressed head to toe in navy blue, a tweed suit and a stripped black and blue tie and white shirt, he also wearing a blue khakis and black leather loafers; Jimmie is wearing simple pink dress shirt and a pair of brown dress pants with dark brown loafers, with a pair of black knitted gloves for protection from being burned by the soup. The night before Jimmie made a batch of homemade chicken noodle soup, guaranteed to get Joan back to health, it worked with Billy every time. Both Billy and Jimmie were so shocked to hear on the TV that Joan fell ill during the production of Hush..Hush, Sweet Charlotte. Joan never got sick, she was a clean freak, and never missed a day of work. Billy knew firsthand how devoted Joan was to her work, after appearing in a handful of movies with her. She was involved in her films 100% she knew every bodies lines, knew what lighting and camera angles were best for her, and demanded rehearsals for her scenes so that she got everything right. Perhaps she had been overworking herself, she wasn't 30 years old anymore, she was 58, nearly 60. She had finished Baby Jane, completely overshadowing her rival Bette at the Oscars from last year accepting the Best Actress award for Anne Bancroft; doing 2 more films, a publicity tour for that the William Castle flick she did Strait-Jacket, and a TV pilot (that unfortunately was not picked up). Plus she decided to work with Bette again, which probably was not the best idea, but Joan wanted to make amends, and have another hit picture. They all weren't getting any younger. Both Billy and Jimmie just hoped it was nothing serious.
In the hospital room of Joan Crawford, dozens of flowers, letters of wishing wellness covered the room. Along with Joan's own bedding and a small selection of nightgowns, her knitting, a cooler filled with bottles of Pepsi-cola, the script to Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte to make notes, her glasses and a few other neccessities that Joan needed and Mamacita provided her, she was quite content. Although it was a bit unprofessional to hold up production feigning illness, what they did was far worse. Everything went downhill ever since they started shooting in Louisiana. First the mix-up at the hotel, she let go. The late night cast parties next door that she wasn't invited to, she turned the other cheek; after some difficult inner debating. The jabs at her acting from Davis she could take to an extent, but the fact that the bitch bossed her around like she was the fucking director was wrong. Criticizing every little thing about her performance, turning the whole cast and crew against her was wrong. Then Bob went behind her back and made Bette producer of the Fucking PICTURE! Another wormless little snake of a director. Then Bette and Bob ended shooting that same day, and no one woke her and Mamacita up to go back to the hotel! After coming back after that, she went right to Bette's room to give her a piece of her mind. But the final straw was, Bob allowing Bette to start cutting dialogue from her scenes. That's when she made the decision to go to the hospital and hold up production. Both Bob and Miss Davis made one mistake, they messed with the wrong bitch in Hollywood. She smiled like a naughty little girl as she knitted another scarf. She was all by herself today, she let Mamacita have the day off. She wore a silver tinted silk nightgown, custom made with her signature shoulder pads, which hugged at the hips, showing off her figure, that ran down to her ankles. Her auburn hair done up in a neat crocheted beehive bun, with the front of her hair done up in a wing shaped opening, she wore little makeup, fully showing her freckles, although she still wore her eyelashes and her lipstick, but she kept her makeup bag by her bed, in case of any reporters or newscasters wanted to do an interview. Then all of a sudden, she heard a knock on the door. She wondered who could be coming, she rolled up her knitting, stuck the needles in the ball, putting it away, and grabbed her make up bag to do a quick touch up so she looked at least semi camera ready. After the person knocked a second time, she was pleased with her appearance in her compact, she was ready for guests.
"Come in." She called out. The door opens to reveal Billy and his husband Jimmie, who was carrying a casserole dish. She instantly shot a huge smile.
"Hiya Cranberry!" Billy bellows out, smiling at her, he watches her vibrant blue eyes light up with excitement.
"Hi Joanie. Hope you feel up to a visit? We don't want to disturb you." Jimmie asked the woman in bed, hoping that he and Billy hadn't disturbed her.
"Hi Billy, hello Jimmie. And no, you are not disturbing me. I'm glad that you guys came over. Come in. What's in the dish Jimmie?" Her friends walk into the hospital room. Billy grabs a couple chairs that were nearby and place them together near the right side of Joan's bed.
"My homemade chicken soup, to help you with your illness." Jimmie holds up the dish as he mentions it. He places it on the nightstand after moving a few of Joan's get well cards back enough for it to safely sit.
"We were worried when we heard that you were being hospitalized on the television last night. Jimmie started making the soup for soon after dinner. So tell us Cranberry, is it anything serious, because you never get sick or take off work." Billy and Jimmie sit down in their chairs. Billy takes ahold of Joan's hand, awaiting her response, hoping it was something minor.
Joan instantly feels guilty. She knew she was being dishonest, but she didn't mean to upset anyone. That was the downside to faking sick. She answered very emotional and distressing calls from the twins, it took over an hour to calm Cathy and Cindy down. It was awful. She had to tell her friends the truth. This wasn't going to be easy.
"I...I need to tell you guys something...I'm not really sick." Joan looks away from friends in shame. Billy and Jimmie's eyes bulge in surprise. Not sick? But, it was all over the news? Was she faking? Why was she faking? All these questions ran through both their minds. Billy was the first to speak.
"What do you mean, you're not sick?"
"Joan, are...are you faking being sick?" Joan nods her head, answering her friends' questions.
"But why Joanie?" Jimmie asks her. Joan thinks it over before replying, and her face becomes stone cold in anger. She looks up at Billy and Jimmie. Her blue eyed icy stare is so intense, it's almost like she's penetrating through their souls.
"Because I just couldn't stand to be around that bitch Davis for one more second! She's been making my life a living hell, as if kicking me in the head on Jane wasn't enough! And Bob, the spineless little dweeb, just allows her to get away with it! She criticizes everything I do, from my clothes to my performance. She seems to have it out for me ever since Oscar night. I just don't understand, I thought we had finally made amends at the first table reading. I guess that's my mistake for trusting her or Bob. It's like they're conspiring against me, like they want to kick me off this picture." Joan finishes with heavy breathing, every time she mentions Bette, she starts shaking. She's all red in the face. Billy and Jimmie see how distressed Joan is. Damn Bette Davis was a real bitch to her. Joan herself was difficult at times sure, but not at this scale and she never tried to sabotage someone like this.
"Shit Joanie, I had no idea things were that bad. What did you do to piss her off on Oscar night?" Billy asks his friend.
"Did you really ruin Bette's chances of winning that year, she's been saying that ever sin-" Jimmie had just said the wrong thing, at the wrong time. Billy smacks his arm in annoyance. Both Billy and Joan look at him with murderous intensity.
"I DID NOT RUIN THAT BITCH'S SO CALLED CHANCES OF WINNING!" Joan shouts at Jimmie, who jumps in shock. Billy's eyes bug out as well. Joan takes a breath to regain her composure before she continues. "Bette can complain about her losing until the cows come home, but I did not and could not have done that. I had no control of the Academy's decision or choices. If I did, don't you think I would tried to get myself a nomination or another win from my other nominations?" Billy and Jimmie nod, understanding the situation of what really happened that night, and Joan's logic. It seemed that Miss Davis was full of hot air. Joan goes on.
"Anne Bancroft was just simply better in "The Miracle Worker". Besides all though I will admit, Bette's performance was great, but she was simply fooling herself thinking that starring in a B horror flick wearing white pancake makeup on her face feeding me a dead rat on a silver tray, would guarantee herself a win. She called it art, ha! I call it camouflage, the absence of any real beauty." Billy begins to howl with laughter, prompting Joan to lose her negative attitude and join in the laughter. Jimmie however is shaking with fury. How dare Bette treat Joan like that, and why didn't anyone stand up and say something to her?
"Well, well, well. Cranberry, I must say you are acting like a real bitch. And I love you for it.", says an impressed Billy. Joan takes a mock bow, with a look of false pride. Jimmie gets up and starts to walk over to the phone on the other side of the bed. Joan and Billy look at Jimmie in bewilderment. Billy questons his husband, "Babe...? Whatcha doing?"
Jimmie picks up the phone receiver and sks in a huff, "Give me the phone number, Joan!" He puts his hand on his hip and taps his foot on the floor. Joan and Billy exchange a look. Joan proceeds to ask, "Whose number, dear?"
"That bitch's number or Bob's, just give me the damn number. It's time someone put Bette Davis in her fucking place!" Jimmie has grown impatient. Joan goes into a sense of panic, Jimmie can't fly off the handle like this, he'll ruin her plan. Billy quickly gets up and snatches the phone from Jimmie's hand and slams back down, and takes his index finger and thumb and thumps him on the nose. Jimmie makes a slight noise in pain and holds his nose.
"Whatcha do you that for?" Jimmie answers back in frustration. Billy shushes him. "Nobody is calling anybody! Joanie is a big girl, she doesn't need you to fight her battles for her." Joan smiles at Jimmie. "I do appreciate the gesture dear, but Billy's right. I have a plan and if you call anyone within Charlotte, you'll ruin it." Joan begins to point her perfectly manicured finger at her friends to make her point in her request, "Which is why I want both of you...to promise me that you won't say anything to anyone, other than that I am ill and am hoping for a speedy recovery. Got it?" Her eyes look back and forth at them, waiting for a response of compliance.
"Sure!", "Of course!" They reply in unison. They walk back to the other side of the bed to sit back down in their chairs. Joan begins to explain her plan to them. Billy looks at his friend in amazement. She really planned all this out. Needless to say, he was quite impressed. Jimmie sat with an uneasy feeling. He felt this was a bit mean of Joan. Not that Bette didn't deserve it, but wouldn't this hurt Joan as well, professionally? Billy and Joan start to boom with laughter at the plan.
"Cranberry, I take back what I said about you being a bitch. You're a fucking cunt! Didn't know you had it in ya." Joan chuckles at Billy's comment.
"Well, Bette is a bigger one. The theater actress made a mistake, testing the Queen of Hollywood."
"I don't like it." Jimmie blurts out. Joan and Billy look at him in puzzlement. Jimmie inhales to collect his thoughts carefully. "Don't you think it's wrong for you to be holding up production like this-" Joan tries to inject, but Jimmie stops her by continuing. "Although Bette does deserve it, doesn't hurt you also? What if they fire you? Billy and Joan laugh good-naturedily at Jimmie's reasoning.
"I doubt that will hapen Jimmie. Bette and I are the main reason this picture is being made. They wouldn't dare fire me." Billy adds on. "Of course they wouldn't, you're Joan fucking Crawford, they need you to make the picture work." Jimmie's worrisome expression remains unchanged.
"I don't know..." Joan holds out her hand for Jimmie to grasp. She looks at him lovingly. How typical of Jimmie to worry about someone he cared for.
"Oh Jimmie, don't worry, I'll be find, you'll see. I'll make a "miraculous recovery", return to the picture, which will become a hit, and Bette will learn her lesson. Besides, you two both know what it's like to be bullied, at far worst results. Now Bette has been a total bully to me on "Jane" and this picture. She has kicked me in the head, insulted me at every turn, left me in my trailer while I was asleep, and cleared the set, leaving me and Mamacita to go back to the hotel by cab. Now can you honestly tell me after you've been wronged so many times, you wouldn't want to do something to set someone right?" Joan made quite a good point. His whole life he was bullied, it was worse after he came out. He was beated, chased and ridiculed all the time. Then he met Billy. Finally he felt safe, then the incident happened. It took him several months to finally feel safe again. And all those years of being judged for being different, he always wanted to get revenge, but he was to afraid and too weak to do so. Jimmie understood completely.
"You're right Joanie. Just don't go too far with this." Jimmie and Joan exchange a mutual smile. "I won't." She looks over the bowl of soup on the nightstand. "Is the soup still hot?
"Jimmie re-heated it on the stove just before we left to the hospital." Billy points to the bowl. He touches the side and to his amazement, it was still warm.
"Will you get some cups Billy, I am rather hungry, and I do think we still have a few hours left for a visit. I think there is some in the hallway next to the water dispenser.", Joan asks. Billy goes out the door to grab enough cups for them.
Jimmie stands up and puts his gloves back on to pick up the bowl, and places it in the middle of the bed, they take them off again.
"Did you get the pickles?"Jimmie picks up the paper bag that was on the nightstand and wags it in front of Joan. He takes the jar out of the bag and opens it. He places the lid down on the nightstand and grabs two big juicy one for Joan and himself. Joan grabs hers. They clink the pickles together as if they made a toast and proceed to sink their teeth into their favorite snacks. Billy returns back with cups to serve the soup, only to see Joan and Jimmie eating those nasty pickles again.
"Blerrgccchh!" Billy makes a very dramatic vomiting sound. Jimmie and Joan look over to him and laugh. Billy smiles and walks forward to the bed to serve the soup.
End of Chapter 2
Thanks for reading
Please review and favorite. And stay tuned for the upcoming third chapter. I will warn you, it will be a sad two parter.
